


A Marriage Of (In)Convenience

by Not_You



Category: Watchmen (Comic), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, Crimes & Criminals, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Kid Fic, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Racist Language, Short Chapters, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, don't worry rorschach is on the case, he's getting better though, lots of unresolved tension that everyone starts to work on resolving, not by anyone we care about, old fic, rorschach is troubled, the abductor is a very shitty human being
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 03:02:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 32,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10548952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: As the world moves on after the less catastrophic events of 1985, Dan and Walter are desperate to adopt, and realize that they'll need a beard.  Laurie has nowhere to go and nothing to do, and is more than happy to oblige.  And then it gets complicated.





	1. Chapter 1

She's just brought the towel to her chest when she sees him. And weird enough, she feels bad. He's the one standing there outside the bathroom staring through the cracked door like a complete fucking creep, and she's the one that feels bad. Typical. She's turning into her mother after all.

"Goddammit, Walter!" He flinches like he's been struck, and as she moves toward him, tucking the towel into place, she sees that his eyes are too wide. They look less avaricious than frightened, almost deerlike. She can see that he's hard, and she kind of wishes she couldn't, because she can also see the shame coming over him.

"Th-thought you n-n-needed--" And there he stalls out completely and just shoves a towel into her hands, a deep flush spilling over his freckled cheeks.

"Oh." She smiles at him, and feels bad when it just makes him redder. "Thanks. I didn't even know anyone else was here."

"Didn't know there were any towels left." He mutters bitterly, and she has to laugh. He's staring down at his feet like a kid called into the principal's office, and he's obviously decided that since his arousal is obvious, hiding it would only be an act of cowardice.

"Hey, I can use this one for my hair." She wraps it up like a turban. "Honestly, I'm sort of flattered. Aren't you gay?"

He sputters helplessly, going from red to white so fast he looks like some kind of semaphore signal. "Not homosexual." He grates.

"Apparently not." She can see his mouth struggling not to shape 'whore', because he had promised Daniel (after a fight that she couldn't help but hear, even with her pillow over her head in the guest room down the hall from them) that he would never call her that again. So he swallows hard, turns on his heel, and stalks away. Laurie starts investigating the latch, reminding herself to think of the kid, and how very, very much Walter and Dan want her. She's starting to fall for the kid herself, and her throat always closes up when she sees Rorschach (Walter, they have to call him Walter or the pills might stop working) with her. He's so tender, those lethal hands so gentle. Besides that, Laurie is living here rent-free, which is good since she's unemployed and her only real job skill is beating the shit out of people. She figures she owes it to them to pretend that Walter sleeps in the guest room and that she's going to be the kid's mother instead of a favored aunt.

As far as she's concerned, it's just good to have a future. She still shivers, sometimes, remembering Antarctic cold. She supposes this is the good outcome, and that in every other goddamn parallel universe they're all dead, and Veidt didn't tear open his own plans and let them take him away quietly for his attempted massacre. The world is still behaving, stunned by the knowledge that Adrian Veidt would do such a thing. He's used his media exposure well, to paint himself as a desperate man who would do anything for peace. She won't be surprised when the book comes out. Ironically, what had hit her the hardest was the knowledge that the son of a bitch had killed her father. She wishes she could find a man who would be half as kind to her as Dan had been when she had started to freak out after it was all over. Yet again, one of Sally Jupiter's maxims had proven true: the good ones are all taken, gay, or both.


	2. Chapter 2

Dan is surprised when Rorschach (Walter, they have to call him Walter or the pills might stop working) greets him by pouncing on him like a cat and clinging tightly, but he's willing to work with it. Oh god, is he willing to work with it. He presses his wiry little attacker against the wall and kisses him like he needs to breathe through Walter's mouth. He's just been on a duty-visit to the man who almost destroyed New York to save the world, and he needs to feel alive again, to forget the horror and sepulchral beauty of a man entombed alive by his convictions. Walter's legs are like living iron around his waist, and he whimpers as those ragged fingernails dig into his back, hurting even through his shirt. It doesn't matter. If Walter rips it, he'll fix it so well that no one will see the tear unless they look for it. He can feel how hard Walter is against him. It's times like this when it's easiest to stop calling him Rorschach. He's so human. So needy and vulnerable.

"Please, Daniel." He whimpers, tugging Dan to his bared neck and mewling when he bites. "Need you." He yelps when Dan pulls away from the wall, and just clings to him, trembling as Dan nearly bolts to the room that used to be his and is now theirs. He pins Walter to the bed and devours his mouth, stopping only to yank his shirt off and fling it aside. He drops his head and trails hard bites down Walter's chest, and isn't surprised to hear his deep groan. He doesn't like this right away unless he's been letting it build for hours, aching and waiting for Dan to show up. He'll jerk off if he has to, but he never really wants to. He always wants Dan, and he's still not sure how feels about that. It's a little scary, to be so desired, but Walter has always been intense.

"Ssshh." He murmurs, stripping them both as fast as he reasonably can, with Walter clinging and moaning and struggling out of his jeans. He's frantically looking around for lube when Walter yanks him close.

"Already done." He rasps. "Fuck me." Before Dan can make any sense of him, Walter sinks those ragged nails into Dan's hips and impales himself on his cock, all the way down in one, clean stroke that makes them both cry out. This already wasn't going to last, and the thought of Walter carefully preparing himself with Vaseline just cuts Dan's endurance shorter. He's just been waiting, probably all afternoon, lubed up and aching for Dan's cock. There are times when Dan thinks of Walter's inhuman patience as a psychiatric symptom, but right now he doesn't care as he nails him to the mattress.

It's been forever since he could be so rough. Really, if he will be completely honest with himself, since about 1968. Rorschach had thought Nite Owl's coolness to him after that particular bust had been due to misplaced sympathy, but it had had a lot more to do with his cobalt blue balls than with a broken heart. Now the headboard is smacking against the wall, and Walter is crying out like each deep, punishing thrust is a stab, except that Dan has heard him take a blade four inches into the meat of his leg and he hadn't sounded as agonized or as helpless. Now he wails and erupts between them before Dan can even touch him, and he has no choice but to follow, burying himself deep inside and groaning, collapsing on Walter as he fights to get his breath back, their sweat cooling rapidly in the near-silence.


	3. Chapter 3

"So." Dan says a bit later, Walter's head comfortably pillowed on his chest, "What brought that on?" He's petting him like a cat, sliding his hand through Walter's fiery hair and down his narrow back over and over, fingers already intimately acquainted with every knob of his spine. "Not that I mind, or anything. Just for science." When Walter tenses, he's kicking himself, but he doesn't pull away. He speaks into Dan's skin, so softly that he doesn't breathe, for fear of drowning him out. He tells Dan about seeing Laurie, and it makes his chest hurt.

Rorschach (Walter, they have to call him Walter or the pills might stop working) has always been an intensely visual creature. As Dan had gotten to know him better in their misspent youth, he had realized that maybe the mask was there because he thought other people looked at the world as hard as he did. Rorschach never missed anything. It was the most incredible thing Dan had ever seen, and Rorschach was always surprised he hadn't noticed the two grains of salt in a compromising position or the particular pattern of the bricks in a building three blocks away, or the color and flow of one garment in all the teeming masses in Times Square. Sitting on a fire escape and watching him whip through three handsprings, looking like he could go on forever and somehow stuttering at the edge of the available roof and whipping through the same trick backwards, with the same tight, feral grace, Dan never could have known how different Walter Kovacs was from the man he knew. Rorschach made gut-churning violence look like a dance and his answer to having a straight razor pressed to his partner's throat was just to be faster than the other guy. Dan had already loved him then, resting trembling against the wall as Rorschach's legendary disinterested cool deserted him completely . The first time he had seen Walter's real face, in '77 when he had knelt down on the kitchen floor and begged him not to quit, he had realized that the mask was also there because Walter really did despise his own face. That more than anything had made him kneel with him on the cold linoleum and reseal their partnership with a kiss.

Here and now, Dan holds him tightly. "Walter, you can't help reacting. You aren't actually gay, and Laurie is incredibly hot." He shrugs. "It's biology. Since it seems like you didn't freak her out, I'd say we're doing fine."

"Didn't only see." Walter growls. "Wanted."

"Oh." There are some things about Walter Dan doesn't understand, but this key difference is not one of them. He's not sure if he's more jealous or turned on. "Well, that's okay, man. I mean, you're nothing if not controlled, you're not gonna do anything--"

"Like I did in '77, Daniel?"

He has a point, and Dan shivers, remembering the way Rorschach climbed into his lap and devoured him, kissing him the way he had wanted for over a decade, gloved hands clutching at him and leaving dark bruises that Dan didn't feel until the next day. "Well, you'd never be like that with someone who didn't want you to."

Walter just sighs. Thanks to his pills and his interminable sessions with Dr. Long, he is now able to give up like a normal human being, but he knows he has to somehow explain the pull he felt. He doesn't like it that Laurie's skin calls to his sensitive fingers like certain silks, because that's a feeling that's previously been reserved for Dan. It worries him, but he's too drained to care much at this precise moment in time. He's more in the mood to let Dan's heartbeat lull him to sleep, which he does.


	4. Chapter 4

Roger Sims isn't really certain what to expect. In some bizarre form of social worker hazing, he has been sent to do the weirdest home study in the world. Normally, this household wouldn't stand a chance in hell, since Rorschach (Mr. Kovacs, he's supposed to call him Mr. Kovacs or the pills might stop working) is a convicted felon and all, but since he had cooperated with psychiatric treatment, is considered fully rehabilitated, and his only actual murder was of a man who had molested and killed a child, the agency has made an exception.

He's going to be more like an uncle, anyway, and it's just a bonus that Charlene likes him so much. Hell, since he started calling her Charlie she has refused to answer to anything else. Roger straightens his tie, goes up to the door, and knocks. The whole point of the home visit is to be unexpected. You give them a set of hours they can afford to be home and narrow it down to a range of a few days so you won't walk in on an orgy or whatever, but you drop by unannounced. He sends up a silent prayer as the door opens and he finds himself staring right at Kovacs.

"You," Kovacs croaks, standing there in grey sweats and a ribbed undershirt. He has apparently just been washing the dishes, and his left big toe sticks out of a hole in his sock. It was hard to believe that this baleful little leprechaun has ever been the terrifying Rorschach. For about three seconds. and then that flat brown stare locks onto Roger and it's suddenly easy. "Credentials?"

Reminding himself that he's dealing with someone with actual reason to be paranoid, he digs out his ID and hands it over. Kovacs is still studying it when Dreiberg came down the stairs. "Walter, nobody knows the password. Come in, Mr. Sims." Kovacs stands back obediently to let him in, and gives his ID back, retreating to the kitchen without a word.

"He's nervous." Dreiberg says quietly. "Do you want to look around first, or should we all meet in the living room?" 

Roger looks around first, because it's a good filter. If you want to flee just from the inspection, you know the home is unfit. It can take a long interview to ferret out the same problems, so he gets to work. It's a great house. It's clean, but not sterile, there are books on birds and airplanes and mythology everywhere, the kitchen has real food in it, and the hopeful little room at the end of the hall is bright and comfortable, and much more importantly, set up with Charlie in mind. 

The walls are covered in a fantastical undersea mural, and he pauses for a moment just to admire it. Charlie loves the ocean. When they all reconvene in the living room for coffee, he doesn't want to ask Kovacs about his childhood. What's in the file is bad enough, but the questions are relevant, so they're stuck with it. He doesn't lie about what a nightmare it was to make himself look well-adjusted. He just says he'd rather cut off his right hand here and now than ever hurt Charlie in a way that makes Roger sure that if he had a knife, it would be poised over his wrist, ready to make good on that.

By and by he gets them all to relax enough that Kovacs is using complete sentences and Dan has brought out some pecan divinity crafted by those loving, lunatic hands. It's actually almost as good as what Roger's mother makes, and it makes it a little less of a surprise to hear that the mural was mostly done by Kovacs. By the time Roger finally leaves, he's pretty sure things will work out all right for Charlie. He looks at the stuffed dolphin they've sent along with him, and he's pretty sure it feels as hopeful as he does.


	5. Chapter 5

Charlie is doing her level best to be good. But it's hard, waiting for Dan and Laurie to sign even more papers. She knows it's funny to call them by their names, but she's four years old and 'Daddy' is the name of the scariest monster she knows. 'Mommy' describes a vague, grey nonentity, only fuzzily delineated from the wallpaper by occasional hugs and the scent of cheap whiskey. Dan and Laurie are nothing like either. She looks up at Walter and smiles, lightly kicking her feet in their little red sneakers.

Besides, there's only two words, and she has three people taking care of her. In a way, Walter might be the most important of them all. He gave her her name, as bright and boyish as her shoes. She looks up at him, and admires his hair anew. People tell her she's a pretty little girl, and she enjoys the toasted marshmallow color of her skin, but she does kind of wish that anything on her was as bright. He's watching her, with those sad brown eyes that remind her of a dog, and she smiles.

"Home?"

"Soon." He shifts her into his lap, and looks up and over to the desk, where Dan is laughing slightly at something, scribbling his name for what seems like the millionth time. Laurie is sighing, and when she glances over and catches Charlie's eye, she sticks her tongue out to make her giggle. It seems like another year before they're done, but Walter keeps her entertained. She had realized that he tells good stories, when it's just the two of them. She's pretty sure he makes them up out of his own head, and she loves him for it, among myriad other reasons.

And then they can finally, _finally_ leave all together, Dan and Walter swinging her between them all the way to car, where she crawls into Laurie's lap in the front seat and curls up. She guesses she must have fallen asleep there, because she only partially wakes as they tuck her into a bed that's just the right size in a room that looks like the sea. She dreams of mermaids that night, and clownfish who have a secret to tell her, but never get around to it.


	6. Chapter 6

You have to visit them again, of course. See how they're settling in. Roger straightens his tie, and looks with slight trepidation up the walk. Both cars are gone, but the lights are on. That means that Rorschach (Mr. Kovacs, he's supposed to call him Mr. Kovacs or the pills might stop working) is the only one home. Sure, the home study had gone well, but there had been sane people to act as a buffer. If he didn't have to turn in a report, he would turn around and play hooky for the allotted time. He's not ashamed to own his cowardice.

As it is, he knocks on the door, and a moment later Kovacs is there, giving him profound deja vu. He's barefoot today, though, since spring has turned into summer. There's flour in his vivid hair, and Charlie is behind him in a sky blue sundress, also covered in flour.

"Mr. Sims."

"Yeah. Came by to see how you're doing."

"To make sure we're not maltreating the child." His tone is flat, but he steps aside. "Come in."

"What does 'maltreat' mean?" Charlie asks, tripping along behind them as they head to the living room.

"Being mean to someone in any number of ways," Kovacs tells her.

"Oh," she says, full of unconcern.

"I'm here to check on you, Charlie," Roger says. "We can't just give you away like a kitten," he adds, helping her to sit on the massive overstuffed couch, "we have to look after you."

"Stay here and talk to Mr. Sims while I go put the cookies in," Kovacs says. Charlie nods, happily kicking her little feet, and the former Terror of the Underworld goes to put the cookies in. 

"So. How's it going?" Roger asks.

"Pretty good. I want a dog but they scare Walter so we won't get one."

His stomach turns, thinking about the contents of the file on Kovacs. He isn't sure 'scare' is really the right word, but he'll let it be. "Well. What about a cat?"

"Maybe," Charlie chirps. "Walter made my dress," she adds, with one of those childhood nonsequitors.

He stares quite enough to please any child. "Really?"

"Really. I'll probably wear it to kindergarten."

Kovacs appears in the doorway and watches them for a moment before coming over. He fields questions from Charlie about the cookies and the possibility of getting a cat, while answering Roger's about vaccinations and schools and the dress, which seems to make him defensive until he Roger compliments the work, whereupon he doesn't seem to know what to do. Charlie leaps to his rescue by asking Roger if he'd like to see her room.

The mural is as vivid as ever, but now the place looks lived in. There are more books, and a few more stuffed animals. He's pleased to see that they haven't drowned her in stuff, especially since her birthday is coming up. He leaves before the others come back, and the last thing he hears is Kovacs gravely promising Charlie that she can decorate the cookies any way she wants.


	7. Chapter 7

Evelyn Dubois has almost gotten used to him. The first time she had seen him, she had embarrassed herself by jumping and letting out a little shriek. She had been only fifteen when he had been arrested, and she remembered those flat brown eyes and that killer's mouth from weeks on the news and from her own nightmares afterward. But he's fixed now. That's what they tell her, and it seems to be true. He walks Charlie to and from school every day, except for when the weather is bad and Laurie drives her, Rorschach (Walter, she has to think of him as Walter or she'll freak out) riding shotgun.

Right now they're in the grip of an Indian summer, and Walter is standing out there in the heat in his undershirt, waiting. He reminds her a little of her first dog, a black lab named Chips who waited for her at the bus stop every afternoon. The stillness and the eyes are almost exactly the same. She gnaws on an eraser and contemplates inviting him in again. She tries it now and then, and it never works. He glances over and their gazes lock. Trying to stare him down is like trying to stare down a boulder. She looks away and the bell rings, her whole kindergarten class leaping and tumbling and bounding out. Charlie bolts by in her overalls with the embroidered butterfly on the bib, exploding into the sunlight and catapulting into Walter's arms.

Walter smells like brown spices and meat and onions, so Charlie knows dinner is going to be something out of the slow-cooker tonight, and when she tells him so, he's glad she notices. They have kind of a game, where she Observes things and he tells her if she's right. "What did you do today?" He asks, carrying her a little ways. He's really strong, and even though she's pretty big now he can carry her to the big oak tree that makes the sidewalk all bumpy before his arms get tired. She kicks her feet in their faded red sneakers.

"We drew pictures of our family. We're gonna put them up on the board for the Open House."

"I see."

"We learned how to call the police if we have to."

"Always good to know."

"And Miss Dubois read us a Frog and Toad book."

"Also good." 

They're in the shade of the tree now, and he sets her down, taking her hand and going on. She has to skip to keep up sometimes, but he mostly waits for her. She catches falling leaves and tells him about their snack (Nilla wafers and banana pudding, something both of them can appreciate) and about the weird bugs they had found outside and how Miss Dubois had said her overalls were very pretty. He only makes a couple of funny noises, but she knows he's listening. She can feel him tensing up, and drops his hand to move to the outside of the sidewalk and take the other one. The Hendersons' yard is coming up, and they have two big German Shepherds. They run up to the fence and bark at anything going by. They don't scare Charlie very much. She can tell that they can't get out, but Walter's hand gets all sticky in hers at the sound of the barking, and he stares straight ahead, looking angry as they pass. She squeezes his hand, and tells him not to worry, which is what she always does. And like always he smiles softly, and relaxes.

"You're right, Charlie." He sighs, and she tugs him onward, telling him about the guinea pig and how she's going to have babies. It never takes long to restore his good humor, and he hums as he fixes their lunch, always a good sign. It's just them for a little while longer. Laurie is at work, because even though she doesn't have to she says she'd go nuts if she didn't, and Dan won't actually be home for two more days, because he's at a conference. She asks Walter for the millionth time how come Dan likes birds so much, and he still has no answer.


	8. Chapter 8

It must be the heat. That's the only possible reason for her to be perving on Rorschach (Walter, they have to call him Walter or the pills might stop working), because it's the stupidest thing she could possibly be doing. She supposes it makes sense, with her experience as Home-Wrecker of the Gods. She smokes a secret cigarette on the roof and wonders if it's some kind of pathological thing, if she's just incapable of finding a man of her own. Below her, he's pacing the yard like it's a cage, pale skin and undershirt glowing in the dark, new jeans (purchased in the teen section over his strenuous objections) disappearing into the night. She's got eyes meant for watching people in the dark, and can still see him all too clearly. She knows his agitation is her fault.

He had waited to put Charlie to bed before growling that he had seen her watching him, that she was an evil whore no matter what Daniel said, and that he was going for a walk. There hadn't been much to do in response but go to the roof for a smoke, close enough to an upstairs window to get right back in if Charlie needs anything. She loves the kid more than she had really expected to, and it makes her uneasy sometimes. She supposes it must do the same to Walter. Out of all of them, only Dan can really act like he's supposed to have this, and she misses him. When he's around and Walter gets insecure, he can just fuck him while she takes Charlie on a walk or a drive or something not screamingly suspicious. Sure, she'd rather be getting laid too, but the kid's all right. Gives her an excuse to get ice cream.

"Know you're up there." He growls, and a rustling in a nearby tree suddenly resolves into Rorschach, and in her own head she's gonna go with the name, because he looks murderous. There are leaves in his hair, and his looks like some kind of angry tree spirit.

"All right, so you caught me." She blows a smoke ring toward the moon. "The evil whore is also a little perturbed, okay?"

"Should be." He mutters, crawling across the roof to her. She looks at the sky until he's safely not moving, all that beautiful, compact musculature as innocuous as it's going to get without a robe. He sits beside her, and she can suddenly see the droplets of sweat in his hair, and the defeated look on his face. "Sorry I called you that. Promised Daniel I wouldn't."

"It's okay. I won't tell on you." Another smoke ring.

"Shouldn't have watched."

"Hey, you've seen me naked." She suddenly realizes that maybe that was the last thing she should have brought up as he shivers in the heat.

"Accident."

"Well, you were fully-clothed, so there."

"Saw your eyes!" His voice drops again and he hugs himself miserably, staring down into the yard. "Don't... am weak, Laurel."

She rolls her eyes. "Walter, I think you can resist my charms. You've done it for decades, after all." She might have been planning to say something else, but it's lost to history with his hands tangled in her hair and his fever-dry lips pressed to the side of her neck. He growls, bites, and is suddenly gone. Dazed, she watches him vault over the fence and run off as fast as his wiry little legs can carry him. She's not worried. He'll be back.

It rains in the night, easing the pressure and cooling everything down. Laurie wishes she were in greater sympathy with her environment. Walter still isn't back. Charlie will be waking up any minute. Getting her breakfast is usually Walter's thing, but when the kid comes stumbling out in her shark pajamas with the feet, Laurie steps up to the plate. Charlie has had a weird dream about a picnic on the moon that must be told before it is forgotten, so she's halfway through her plate of bacon, eggs, and toast before she asks where Walter is. Laurie is trying to come up with something to say when he comes in, looking as calm as ever.

"Took a walk." He has today's paper, and tosses it to Laurie, stopping to kiss the top of Charlie's head before going to the stove to make breakfast for himself. She can tell that he was out all night. The undershirt has obviously been soaked and dried on him, and he looks like he's been climbing more trees. She doesn't say anything, and he showers and changes while she helps Charlie dress and he walks the kid to school like always. For the first time, she curses the amount of free time she has. Sure, teaching self-defense part time is closer to a real job than either of the others, but she's in no rush. Her day doesn't really start until near the end of Charlie's, and usually she and Walter pass the morning in reasonable contentment. She frequently spends half or more of it in bed, dozily listening to Walter and Dan rattle around the house.

Today she paces the kitchen and curses under her breath. This would all be easier to deal with if she wasn't so fucking horny. It's ridiculous, like being a teenager again or something. She's brushing her hair when it all comes together. Oh, hell. Her mother had even warned her about it, the sucker-punch of desire that would probably hit her right about the age she is now. Fuck. Well, she's not going to screw up another marriage. Unless Walter does something so foolish and inevitable as to touch her again. She looks at the clock. There's about half an hour before he gets back, and she uses it to get dressed and get out. She kills hours in the city, and purchases a rather inadvisable dress. It's satisfying to do it with her own money, even if she is living off of Dan. Now she just needs to find someone who's not taken, gay, or both to wear it for.


	9. Chapter 9

Dan gets home at ten in the morning to find Laurie already gone, at least an hour early. The house is quiet, and he opens the door cautiously, wondering what's wrong. Walter isn't exactly a Happy Homemaker, but he finds housework soothing, and can usually be found doing something useful about the place. At very least, one light should be on somewhere.

"Walter?" There's no answer, and there's a crazy, tilting moment where he thinks Sorry, Dan. Your pet psycho ran away and I didn't have the nerve to tell you. The mental voice is Laurie's, of course. He's about to call out again when his partner finally answers him.

"Here!" It's more like the caw of a raven than human speech, and he bolts to their room.

"Are you okay?" Walter is obviously not okay. He's sitting wrapped up in one of Dan's sweaters, shoulders hunched miserably. "Walter? Baby, what happened?" He sits down beside him, and after a tense moment Walter tips over into his arms and spews his confession like vomit on Dan's lapel. "...Okay. So she looked at you, and you bit her neck? And that's it?"

"Y-yes." He bites his lip.

"...Walter, if anything, that's hot."

"But..."

"Look, you warned me, and I left you two alone in this pressure-cooker of a neighborhood. I've always been attracted her myself. I think most people who aren't dead are attracted to Laurie." Walter loosens up enough to let Dan pull him into his lap.

"Not mad?"

"No. Not at either of you." He strokes his partner's hair, and they spend a few moments calming down. "Walter, honey?"

"Yes?"

"What would you say if I told you I wouldn't mind if you slept with Laurie?" This proposal is greeted with dead silence, and his arms tighten without realizing it, wanting to keep Walter from bolting.

"Wouldn't be jealous?"

"Maybe a little, but... If I got to watch, it would be hot, and if I didn't, it would still be hot, and you would both be in better moods." He nervously pushes his glasses up. "I mean, we should talk it over with her and actually think this through, but I'm not opposed."

"Hurm." Rorschach (Walter, he has to think of him as Walter or through some horrible voodoo the pills might stop working) plucks the glasses off his face and sets them aside, pushing Dan onto his back. "Not opposed to this either?"

"Definitely not." He whimpers as Walter's hands slide under his shirt, and in what seems like no time at all his legs are over those compact shoulders and he's wailing with every breath as Walter pounds him into the mattress with all the force of days of frustration. He's not usually this loud, even when they have the house to themselves, but something about the angle and their conversation and the way his entire body has been aching for this makes him helpless to muffle it. He writhes under Walter, who slams into him a breath short of too hard, one calloused hand slow and rough on his cock. "Oh god." He whimpers, feeling close to tears. "Oh god, Walter... fuck me!" He whines, knowing that his partner usually doesn't like it when he talks this way, but he can't seem to help it, sobbing for Walter to fuck him harder, the headboard thumping against the wall.

Today Walter doesn't seem to mind much, only growling and obliging him, grunting with effort and groaning when Dan comes hard under him, nails digging into the back of his neck until it passes, and then he melts completely, whimpering as Walter finishes himself off. He snarls as it hits him, the sound turning into soft, exhausted panting. They untangle themselves enough for Walter to rest his head on Dan's chest, trembling and making a ridiculous little kitten noise when Dan runs a hand through his hair. Their breathing evens out and grows quieter, the whole dozy house seeming to turn on its own axis like a golden and timeless planet.

They doze until Walter yanks them both awake. It's half-past eleven, and time to start walking if they want to pick Charlie up on time. Dan mutters something about it being five minutes by car and rolls over.

"Wasteful. Need the exercise anyway."

"If you're calling me fat, I shan't get up." He sticks his head under the pillow.

"Come on, Daniel." He pushes him to the edge of the bed. "Pants, then motion."

"One thing at a time."

"The journey of a thousand miles begins with but a single step."

"In bed. With a shotgun."

"Don't be silly, Daniel. Would get gun oil on sheets."


	10. Chapter 10

Laurie comes creeping home like a drunken husband at four in the morning, almost surprised that the house is still standing. Creeping aside, it's about time for dinner and she's fucking hungry and will have to deal with them sometime. Silk Spectre was never really a detective, but some things are obvious. Any time there's trouble Walter closes all the windows like arguments are thunderstorms, and now they're letting out Billie Holiday's voice and the scent of pot roast. "Uh, Walter?" She calls over the music, hanging up her jacket.

"Kitchen." He sounds normal enough, so she goes in to find him mashing potatoes. It's a comfort food, but he looks okay. He seems to be studying her, his eyes full of something she can't name. She looks out the back window and laughs, catching sight of Dan running in circles with Charlie on his shoulders. Her arms are out, and even and though Laurie can't hear it, she's sure that Dan is providing propeller sound effects

"So. Nothing blew up?" Christ, she could use a cigarette.

"Nothing blew up. Set the table?"

She does, wondering what the hell he's thinking. Lady Day keeps singing, but moves onto 'God Bless the Child' as Laurie turns to look at him again. "Walter. What the hell happened?"

"Talked. We need to talk to you, but--" There's a sudden explosion of noise as Dan brings Charlie in to clean up before dinner, and Walter just smiles, point perfectly illustrated. Charlie has to greet Laurie of course, and Dan smiles almost shyly at her over the kid's head.

"How was the conference?"

"Interesting, but I won't bore you with the details." He takes Charlie's hand. "Come on, buddy. We don't want to be late." She bounds upstairs, and Dan goes with her to make sure she doesn't scald herself or get water all over the bathroom. Laurie glances over in time to catch Walter's expression as he watches them go, and it's so sweet it makes her teeth ache.

The first time Walter had offered her food made by his own psychotic little hands Laurie had found it a dubious proposition. And an awkward one, since she was there as their shared and unemployed beard. The perfectly edible chicken pot pie had come as something of a shock. He had even cut the little pine trees in the crust, and if it was a little salty it's not like she could have done any better. Now she devours her pot roast in this clean, suburban house with their fucking kid sitting there asking Dan how planes fly and Walter why there are stars with no idea of how unfair that division of labor is, and Laurie loves them all so much she can hardly stand it.

"Come on, kiddo. Nobody knows for sure why the stars are there."

"Nobody?"

"Nobody."

Charlie ponders this, as Dan explains that the sun is a star. She nods, and looks at Walter again. He looks back. "Lights in the dark."

"Okay."

Not for the first time, Dan and Laurie share a moment of telepathy in noticing it between Walter and Charlie. Dan says they remind him of Meg and Charles Wallace from A Wrinkle In Time, which Laurie still has yet to read. It makes her think of old spy movies, the complicated interchange of sign and countersign. Still, whatever distant country Walter and Charlie are from, its intentions are probably peaceful.

Waiting to put the kid to bed feels like the countdown to D-Day. She has a lot of energy, but tends to blow it all zipping around like a lunatic, and is usually down by eight, down for good and all by nine. She has nightmares on the high end of often, but they wait to pounce on her until about four in the morning. Laurie is actually proud of how oblivious to the tension Charlie is. It feels like they're doing something right. It's almost like being mature, providing a soothing routine for a tiny, helpless being while your nerves do a fast samba and your palms sweat.

Finally, she starts to droop, and Dan leads her upstairs. It's kind of a house rule that whoever has recently been away is the default choice for putting Charlie to bed, but otherwise they all take turns. It's essentially the same show every time: wash up, pass inspection on the washing up, get into bed, receive stuffed dolphin, choose story, receive kiss, watch as night light is turned on, go to sleep. Charlie likes the door left cracked, and none of them see any reason to quibble. The story is really the key thing. In a pinch, Charlie can sleep without the dolphin, but the kid needs her story like smack.

Laurie smiles, and looks over at Walter, where he's putting the dry dishes away with the kind of attention a person would display when dealing with hazardous nuclear waste. They can hear Charlie's faint giggling from upstairs, and know that Dan must surely be reading something with a wide cast of characters and doing voices for all of them. He can be remarkably creative with it, and Laurie had only half-jokingly suggested he get into radio when he had been skipping between the fussy, suspiciously Nelson Gardner-esque tones of Rabbit and the slow, thoughtful growl he had given Winnie the Pooh. Walter looks back at her and smiles, the expression surprisingly free of anxiety or disapproval.

A few minutes later Dan comes back down. "Out like a light. Now. We should probably talk."

They nod, and soon the three of them are sitting around the kitchen table, because it's more neutral and less of an obvious makeout spot than the couch. If it feels uncomfortably like a business deal, that's just something they'll have to deal with. Walter's bottled Coke, Laurie's whiskey on the rocks, and Dan's beer help a little. Laurie looks at both of them, Walter so grim and Dan so serious, and smiles. "All right, boys. Cards on the table."

Dan grins, and Walter just nervously flicks his eyes from one of them to the other, which is about as well as she was expecting to do. "Okay. Charlie comes first. Always." No disagreement there. "I'm perfectly okay with you and Walter sleeping together if you want to." Walter chokes, but doesn't say anything, taking a swig of his Coke.

Laurie watches him swallow. "Well, I want to, for sure," she says. Walter puts the bottle down with a thunk, flushed up to his hairline.

"Quite honestly find that hard to believe."

"Really?" The concern on Dan's face is adorable and shouldn't make her want to laugh as much as it does. "Buddy, you know I--"

Walter holds up a hand. "Agree to disagree."

"I won't lie to you, Walter," Laurie says, "you're ugly as hell." Dan looks likes he wants to strangle her, but it's gone so fast it might as well have not happened. Walter is giving her an appraising look, like she's revealed hidden depths. "Ugly and sexy aren't mutually exclusive." She sips her drink, savoring the burn. "I get the feeling you'd like to bend me over the footboard and pull my hair, and I think I'm down with that." It's Dan's turn to choke, his visually brilliant architect's mind racing ahead of them. Walter takes Laurie's fifth of rye and tips some into his Coke, swirling it and taking a long swig. Dan grins, not laughing for fear of waking Charlie. Walter makes a face, but it's brief and restrained. "Should I take that as a yes?" Laurie asks.

"Yes." Another swig.

Dan swallows. "Wow. Took me longer to get him to admit he wanted to top."

"Didn't realize you'd enjoy it."

"Fuck, man. You'd think it was obvious."

"Boys, don't fight. So where's Dan going to be while we're screwing?"

"Well, uh..." He drains his beer, and Walter puffs air out of his nose in inaudible and feline amusement.

"Wants to watch. Finds the idea extremely interesting."

"Walter!" He moans under his breath, blushing. "I do, though." He grins at Laurie and it makes him look about fourteen and completely adorable.

"Great." She grins back. "I think it would be good if you were there anyway. A security blanket for Walter. And if you want to be there, I don't want to keep you away." She pauses for whiskey, then blinks. "Hey, could I watch you guys? That would be hot."

"I don't mind." He looks slightly confused, and she grins.

"You're _hot_ , you big nerd. Haven't I told you that?"


	11. Chapter 11

And just like that, it's settled. All drinks are picked up and moved down the hall to Laurie's room by unspoken agreement. The state of the room is one of the things that draws Dan to Laurie. It looks like a sixteen year old boy lives here (one who isn't allowed to have cheesecake on his walls or is gay and doesn't know it yet) and all reversals, surprises, and masks are precious to Dan. She sits down on the rumpled bed and grins, gesturing for Walter to join her. He does, sitting nervously beside her, slightly flushed because he's a lightweight. He looks very much like a high school freshman in some cow town on his first date ever, and Dan loves him so much he can hardly stand it. He settles himself on the massive beanbag by the door (he is not the only eternal kid around here, goddammit) and fades into the shadows the way Nite Owl used to.

It's an easy trick. You stay very still, and forget to breathe. The forgetting is really, really easy here, with Laurie cupping Walter's face and kissing him, his little mewling noise of surprise muffled by her mouth as his hands hesitate in midair, with no idea where to go or what to do. Laurie puts one on her thigh, down by the knee where even Walter has to admit it's not exactly lewd, the other on her shoulder, where it's pretty much completely safe, and Dan watches them tighten as Laurie nibbles his lower lip. She's gentle with him. Almost polite, and there's a horrible moment where Dan wonders if she's not just doing this to be doing something, and then Walter's hand slides a little down her arm, squeezes in a moment of terror and then touches her breast so lightly it hardly happens, and she shudders and kisses the corner of his mouth.

"Yes," she breathes, putting her hand over his. He whines, and then just like that Dan is watching Walter grope Laurie with the timid wonder of a virgin. It's beautiful, and only becomes more so when Laurie shucks her shirt, tossing it aside. Walter deftly undoes her bra, and she laughs breathlessly, sliding it off. Dan is glad that it's simple and white, almost like she was planning for this. They share a laundry room and he knows she has leopard print and lace, and is pretty sure that what she had on is all Walter can stand. Nakedness is its own problem, and Dan bites back a whimper at Laurie's solution, which is to put one nipple in Walter's mouth before he can panic, and then to pet him and murmur encouragingly. The position also serves to hide the predatory lust smoldering in her eyes from its object, and Dan feels privileged to have the view he does. Walter makes a little mewling noise, suckling with cautious hunger as one scarred, bony hand comes up to knead Laurie's other breast, the touch delicate, as if he's afraid he'll hurt her. Laurie moves to sit against the headboard with Walter in her arms, and he whines sharply when she scratches the back of his neck.

"Like that?" She murmurs, and he blushes worse than ever so she does it again, more slowly. Dan shivers, thinking of biting him there and the way he moans. Now he shudders as she pulls his shirt off, and looks at Dan. Dan just smiles at him, and his hips buck as Laurie sinks her teeth into his shoulder.

"L-Laurel..." he croaks, his hands clumsily tangling into her hair, and Dan settles back to watch like the voyeur he is.

He likes the contrast of their skin, speckles and smooth gold as they tangle together, hands clutching as they lick and bite. Pants are still on, though they've started to grind high school style, Walter jerking and letting out a shocked little moan when Laurie grabs his ass. Dan smiles when Walter looks over to him for reassurance again. Laurie runs her nails down his spine and he whines, hips snapping into hers.

Dan hasn't been offering much advice, not wanting to be too obtrusive, but he has to tip her off about this one. "He loves that."

"Does he, then?" Laurie grins and slithers out from under Walter to pin him to the mattress, running her tongue along the path her nails just took and making him mewl shakily, hiding his red face in the pillow. She purrs and claws him slowly, leaving red streaks and making him whine. She grinds against him, growling and biting the back of his neck, as he groans, trembling. She purrs, nuzzling him and pressing kisses between his shoulder blades, looking at Dan with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "How long can you stand to do this before you just have to fuck him?"

Dan blushes nearly as badly as his partner. "It depends, really."

Walter moans, clutching at the bars of the headboard. "Laurel..." He sounds desperate.

"What do you want, baby?" She murmurs in a soft, husky register that grabs Dan by the base of his spine. As near as he can tell, it has the same effect on Walter, who whimpers and mumbles something Dan can't hear. She leans down and nibbles his ear, quietly asking him to repeat himself.

"Don't know" he whimpers, writhing, "Laurel, can't--"

"Ssshh." She kisses the back of his neck, then gets off of him and rolls him onto his back. He cries out softly and throws an arm across his wide brown eyes, but doesn't really resist. "You just tell me if I'm doing anything you don't like, and I'll stop, okay?" He manages to nod, and she gets his pants off with the efficiency of an EMT. Dan manages not to laugh, not wanting to disturb them. Walter shudders, and grabs the pillow and slams it over his face like he's trying to smother himself as Laurie wraps a gentle hand around him. She purrs and strokes him slowly, making him groan into the pillow like he's dying. Dan whines, not quite able to stifle the sound no matter how hard he tries.

Naturally, about three seconds after Walter comes so hard he almost explodes, they hear the pitter-patter of little feet. "Shit." Laurie mutters.

Something sort of muffled that sounds kind of like "Wwwrrraaoolll?" Is Walter's only contribution. Dan sighs, knowing he'll have to take one for the team, since he's the only one who's fully dressed. He sighs in defeat and reaches into his boxers, pinching himself. Something about the specific type of pain plus the grandma associations results in what the college girlfriend who had discovered it had dubbed "Instant Erectile Failure". The failure part hadn't offended him. She was an engineering major, and thought in technical terms. It still works, and he creeps out to find Charlie in the hallway, looking confused.

"Hey, kiddo. Whatcha doing down here?"

"Dunno." She yawns, and he smiles.

"Think you've been sleepwalking, kiddo. Come on." He takes her hand and leads her back upstairs, tucking her in again and reading Goodnight Moon because it's short and soothing. She's asleep before the end, and he tiptoes back down to Laurie's room. Walter is apparently trying to have a guilt fit, and Dan rolls his eyes. "Everything is okay, and what you were doing was no different morally from being asleep, so I don't want to hear it."

"So why was she up?" Laurie asks, stretching in a really distracting way.

"Sleepwalking."

"Hurm. Had same affliction at same age."


	12. Chapter 12

It's a strangely beautiful and delicate time. Days spent raising Charlie, nights spent coaxing Walter into doing the things he so desperately wants to. Fall winds down towards winter, and it's nice to nest with both of them, a warm knot against the cold outside. Walter is obsessive about making sure Charlie has enough blankets, and Dan knows he's thinking of a cold tenement and having to find his own damn blankets because Mommy was drunk or gone. It strikes Dan's heart like a knife, and on one of these nocturnal checks, he catches Walter just outside Charlie's door and hugs him tightly, tears pricking at his eyes.

"It's okay, baby." He hears himself say. "It's okay."

"Know that." Walter murmurs, snuggling him. "Just have to check."

"How's she doing?"

"Fast asleep." He makes a soft sound of amusement, stepping away and taking Dan's hand to lead him back to their room. "Had kicked off the top quilt."

Dan chuckles. "So you're doing your job, then." He opens the door and follows Walter in. Laurie is asleep in the middle of the bed like a cat, buried under all the covers, but she mutters at the opening of the door, eyes blinking open because old habits die hard. "Just us, kitten." Dan tells her, sliding into bed after Walter and wrapping around him from behind.

"Kitten?" Laurie mutters, nuzzling Walter's chest.

"You looked like one. I promise not to make a habit of it."

She yawns. "I don't mind. It's kinda cute. Retro, even." She absently bites Walter's nipple and he squeaks. "What does Walter look like?"

Dan smiles. "I'm tempted to say a mouse."

"Trapped in jaws of cat. Appropriate." Walter breathes, as Laurie slides down to suck him off. "Daniel..." He whimpers helplessly and Dan kisses him hard, which is about as far as his participation has been going. He feels a weird responsibility not to get in the way of Walter finally owning his bisexuality. Probably because his sexual exploration has been blocked all his life, and this is painfully precious. Laurie picks up the pace, and Walter clutches at Dan, whimpering and mewling into his mouth, one hand knotted tightly into his hair and yanking in a way that goes straight to Dan's cock.

"Fuck, that hurts." He whispers, in a tone that Walter recognizes as an observation of a pleasant fact, rather than a complaint. He pulls a little harder, and sinks his teeth into Dan's neck, making him groan and melt along Walter's side, belatedly realizing that that puts him in blowjob range, and as he's trying to think of the polite way to tell a woman that despite your wang being in her face, you're not expecting anything when she lets Walter go with an audible pop, and starts licking them both, sucking each in turn, her hands coming up to pick up the slack. Dan whimpers and kisses Walter again, trembling. Hidden deep in the blankets, Laurie presses them together, hot and slick and wet. Dan isn't sure what she's trying to do, but it feels good and he lets her get on with it. Walter whines, and then his eyes get huge as Laurie puts them tip to tip.

"It's not just for ships anymore." She says, muffled and gleeful as she rolls Walter's foreskin back and forth over them both. They can't possibly last long under this treatment, and come before they can even warn her beyond Dan's garbling of her name, mostly muffled by Walter's mouth. There's a silence filled with the pounding of their hearts, and then Laurie speaks again. "Ew, it's in my hair."

"Whose?" Walter asks, and Dan cracks up.

"Both, you assholes." She crawls up laughing to poke her head out of the covers, and sure enough, there are two separate globs in her hair. Dan is pretty sure the clearer one is his, because he jerks off more, and then starts laughing again. Laurie shoves him. "Oh, shut up. I'm gonna learn how to squirt, and then it's gonna be reverse-bukkake time."

Dan shivers. "Is it still revenge if I want it to happen?"

She grins. "It'll have to do." She wraps a leg around him. "Now, are you going to help me out, or do I have to prod Walter out of his stupor?"

"Uh." Dan intelligently points out.

"Right. Uh." She rolls her eyes, grabs him by the hair, and shoves him under the blankets like she's ducking him in a pool. Okay. Fine. He can take a hint. She's soaking wet, and he whimpers as it gets all over his face. He's always liked this, and when you like something, you usually develop a knack for it. Laurie bucks her hips like she doesn't care if she breaks his nose, and he groans, holding her down a little to keep that from happening, and working on her with the singlemindedness he brings to any of his projects. He loses track of everything else, and Walter has to cover Laurie's mouth so she won't wake Charlie as she spasms under Dan. He's grinning when he comes up. He just can't help it. And then Walter kisses him like he wants a taste, and Laurie purrs, watching them.


	13. Chapter 13

A few days later, Dan is replenishing the bird feeder in the yard when Walter comes down the sidewalk, leading a sobbing Charlie and wearing that pale, stricken look that means something terrible has happened and he's sure it's all his fault. Dan meets them at the gate. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" He kneels to wipe Charlie's eyes, but he's really talking to both of them.

"My fault." Walter croaks, and Charlie blubbers something about her friend Samantha isn't allowed to come over because her mother doesn't think it's safe.

"Oh, honey." Dan scoops her up and takes Walter's hand. "I'll call Samantha's mother, okay? I'm sure we can work something out." This seems to cheer Charlie up a little, but it doesn't do much for Walter, who still looks like hell as he follows them into the kitchen. Dan gets Charlie to blow her nose, and lets Laurie unwrap her scarf and get her out of her coat while he makes cocoa. Walter just hovers in the background, obviously about two steps away from killing himself.

"Walter." Laurie finally says. "Sit down and have some damn cocoa." Charlie giggles the way she does any time Laurie swears, and Walter manages a wan smile, obediently sitting down and drinking his cocoa with extra marshmallows while Dan makes his phone call. It doesn't go as well as he had hoped. The denial is still flat, despite all his reassurances that no only has Walter been sane for years, but that even at worst, he had never even dreamt of hurting a child. He finally hangs up, and goes to his and Walter's room to bury his face in the pillow and curse the news media for a solid ten minutes. They had played up the mask and forgotten the man, building him up as the baddest thing since Son of Sam. When he comes back to the kitchen, Walter is gone.

Grace Sinacore watches her daughter play nicely with her three year old brother, and sighs. She knows Samantha wants to go over there, and she knows Charlene wants her to come, but she just can't. She can't send her little girl to Rorschach's house, no matter how sane he's supposed to be. The doorbell interrupts her thoughts, and she goes to answer it. She does her best not to scream, but it's a near thing because he's standing there like her thoughts have summoned him.

"Mrs. Sinacore." His voice is flat and gravelly, and he looks like he ran the whole way, in nothing but a light jacket over an undershirt. She's letting in cold air, but she's too polite to shut the door in his ugly face, and she's certainly not going to let him in.

"Yes?"

He drops to his knees, right there on her welcome mat, and she jumps back. He doesn't clasp his hands or clutch at her skirt, thank god. He just bows his head. "Please." He says softly. "Please don't make Charlie suffer for what I've done. I'll go away. Stay away until your daughter is home safe." He makes a horrible, choking noise and looks up, with some of the most pain she's ever seen on a human face. "Would never... could never..."

"Mr. Kovacs?" Samantha has crept up on them, and Grace is suddenly aware of how ridiculous this looks. "Why are you on the floor?"

She has no idea what to say, but Rorschach apparently thinks as fast as ever. "Dropped change." He pockets a dime she hadn't even noticed, probably half under the mat for months, and stands up, obviously keeping the desperation off his face by sheer force of will.

"Oh." She shivers. "Mommy, Peter's whining 'cause it's cold. Can you shut the door?"

"Sure I can, honey." She looks at Kovacs again. "...Why don't you come in?"

The way she watches him makes him think of doctors. After ECT and anti-psychotics and endless, endless rounds of pointless talking, he had been free, but before they'd even consider giving them Charlie (all unknown at the time, a vague dream of something clean and good), he had had to go back to the clean white halls for encounter therapy. Rooms full of children, and the doctors always watching. He had been able to ignore them, secure in his knowledge of himself. He might be a sexual deviant, but not that evil, pernicious kind. He shares his filth with others who are prepared for it, who welcome it, not with the innocent. He might be a murderer, but not for sport.

So he had sat quietly with retarded children, black children, white children, "gifted" children, any kind. Had helped them build block towers and scooped them up when they fell, had read stories and endured tea parties and made stuffed bears talk, and dolls be good mothers to other dolls. He hates dolls, but children like them. He hates clowns, too, and he and the children had been in near-unanimous agreement. The doctors had watched it all through one-way mirrors and written things down on clipboards and in the end, they had decided he was safe. He waits for Mrs. Sinacore to decide the same thing, as they sit in her kitchen with mugs of tea, and she explains her reservations. They're nonsensical, but she doesn't know that because she doesn't know him, and he does his halting, clumsy best to reassure her.

It helps that Samantha (never Sam, Charlie's polar opposite in more than looks) isn't afraid of him. Why should she be, when he comes to pick her happy, healthy friend up every day? The little boy (Peter, a good, solid name) is only as afraid of him as he is of any stranger, and by the end of Walter's visit, he's leading him around by one finger, remarking upon points of interest. Rorschach is gone (he has to be, so much depends on it) but Walter still notices things. Learns things about the family that Mrs. Sinacore probably doesn't want him to know, but that can't be helped.

Samantha runs to answer the door when the bell rings again, unable to believe this amount of visitors in one afternoon. It's Ms. J, so called because no kid on the block except for Gerald Kowalski can pronounce her last name. Kids with more liberal parents just call her Laurie, like she asks them to.

"Hi!" Samantha beams up at her, and she smiles back.

"Hi. I think you might have something of ours."

She stares and blinks for a long moment, then giggles. "Oh, you mean Mr. Kovacs? Yeah, he's here. Come in." She steps aside and lets Ms. J in, where she slides out of her shoes and looks around. Samantha hopes she'll grow up to be half that pretty.

"Walter?" She calls, and Mr. Kovacs comes up carrying Peter slung on one hip like Samantha's mommy does. "There you are. Say goodbye to your new best friend and come home for dinner."

He smiles slightly, and hands Peter off to Mommy, who has come up behind him. "Okay."

"And Samantha can come visit whenever you want to invite her." Mommy adds, and staggers a little when Samantha tightly hugs her legs. Mr. Kovacs thanks Mommy and then lets Ms. J lead him down the steps by one hand like he's a little kid. He sort of waves as they head off.

"Nice work, Walter." Laurie sounds amused, and he squeezes her hand before letting it go to cram his hands into his pockets.

"Couldn't... couldn't make Charlie's life harder."

"I know you couldn't." She pats his shoulder, and then they start talking about what to cook when they get back, since it's soothing and essentially meaningless.

The next day Samantha and Charlie bounce hand in hand down the sidewalk, Mr. Kovacs a watchful presence behind them. He doesn't say much, but Samantha gets the feeling that he never does. He only seems tense when they pass the Henderson's yard, and then only a little. Charlie lets go of her hand to take his, though, with the slightly apologetic look of someone called away by duty. She's never seen a grown up scared of dogs before, and he does a pretty good job pretending he's not, but all the same she's glad to pass the dogs by. And to see Charlie's house, which proves just as interesting as promised. Samantha is particularly impressed by the undersea mural and Mr. Dreiberg's zillions of huge old books, as well as the beautifully made birdhouse in the back yard.

The yard itself is pretty great, too. It's a wilderness of unpruned shrubs and unmowed grass, with strange trees planted along the edges and some flowers that look like like someone who doesn't know how to garden just threw there because they're pretty. And durable. Samantha kneels down to investigate and finds them full of pansies. Her daddy says he doesn't know why 'pansy' means 'sissy' to some people, since it's one of the toughest flowers. After the initial survey, she and Charlie can see them out the window as they devour their snack. It's cheese and crackers with orange slices on the side, and they run out with orange rind smiles to pretend to be a princess and her dragon until it's time for Samantha to go home for dinner.


	14. Chapter 14

The grocery shopping isn't usually Walter's job, but Daniel is sick and Laurel is exhausted and they're out of milk and sugar. They've got the rest of the household staples, so he just hooks a basket over his arm. It still feels strange to be in a supermarket and not be tucking things under his coat. To pluck fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice off the shelf for Daniel, and know that he has the funds for that and a few cans of the actually good canned chicken noodle soup. It's in the canned goods that he finds the child. Sitting on the floor with his back to a shelf of corn, he looks around with huge, teary eyes. As Walter's path takes him closer, he decides the kid is about a year and a half Charlie's senior. He looks up at Walter, and two huge tears spill down his cheeks.

Walter sets his basket down, crouching to be closer to eye level with the kid. Male, Caucasian with blonde hair that will almost surely darken to brown, apparently well-loved by people of some means. He can't have been lost long. Someone actually cares about him. His already round cheeks round out further as he sets his mouth into howling position, and Walter puts a finger to his lips, the boy pausing to watch the gesture. "Hush. What's your name?"

"'M not supposed to talk to strangers."

"Understandable, but your parents must be starting to worry."

"'M mom."

"Okay. Do you remember what the Customer Service Center looks like?" The kid nods, since Customer Service is a huge red and white counter with a big sign. "One of their jobs is to get lost children back to their parents. Go there and tell them your mother's name, and they'll call her over the intercom to come get you." The kid starts to cry again, rubbing at his eyes. Walter knows that people know his ugly face, and that a lot of them have the wrong idea about him and children, but in the end, he has to take the boy by the hand and walk him down to Customer Service, basket over his free arm. His little companion's name is apparently Mike, and he lost his mom aisles and aisles ago. He holds onto Walter's thumb as they walk, and Walter shortens his strides a little so Mike doesn't have to skip to keep up.

They've nearly reached their destination when Walter hears the scream. It's a nasty jolt, pure terror under the fluorescent lights, and Rorschach's reflexes snap back into action, dropping the basket and snatching Mike up to protect him from whatever's going on. There's nothing, though. Only a woman screaming in terror even as she slots her car keys between her fingers, people stopping to stare. Mike starts to cry again, and Walter puts him down as his mother charges. A moment later she's on her knees, holding her son tightly as a few good samaritans slam Walter into the floor. It's uncomfortably like being arrested, but he stays as quiet as he can. Fighting won't help him here.

"Are you all right, baby?" She sobs. "Did he hurt you?"

"No." He says, muffled and scared by her fear. She thanks god, and Walter winces, feeling a bruise bloom where one of his hipbones contacts the floor. Someone calls him a sick fuck and someone else tells the first voice to watch its language. A moment later security is there. Not real cops. Not anything. He could cut through them like paper, but he lets them take his arms and lead him away. Some lackey is doing his best to reassure Mrs. Donovan that they have security for just this kind of thing, and Rorschach wonders what they'll do with his basket, and if the grapefruit juice bottle broke or if the cans are dented or split.

Up in the office, under the drop tile ceiling, he doesn't say anything. Just watches the bubbles in the water dispenser. I doesn't matter what he says, they've already drawn their own conclusions. Someone pokes his head in to tell them that the police are on their way. There's some silence, broken only by bubbling noises, and then the sound of a child crying and refusing to be consoled. Walter raises his head, listening.

One of the store security gives him a disgusted look that sits oddly on his milkfed face. "Christ, do you like it or something?"

"Not a child molester."

"Then why'd you try to snatch that one?"

"Not a kidnapper."

Before his interlocutor can come up with something smart to say, the police arrive. He hates the fear that prickles over his skin, but he has something to lose now, and suddenly feels horribly close to tears. For the first time in his life, he actually tries to explain himself. They ask him why he tried to snatch Mike, and he tells them that isn't what he was doing.

"So what were you doing?" The younger of the two asks, pad and pen poised.

"Taking him to Customer Service to page his mother."

"Nice try. We have eight witnesses say you picked him up and looked like you were going to run for it when you were spotted."

He sighs, knowing exactly what it must have looked like. "Scream alarmed me." He's still staring straight ahead. "Thought situation had become dangerous. Robbery, assault, etc."

In the end, they let him go. It takes two hours of questioning, though, the samaritans remembering that he hadn't struggled, and Mrs. Donovan's conversation with her son turning up the fact that Rorschach had tried to send him on his own, and had only accompanied Mike upon his insistence. The milk has to be thrown out, but a replacement is provided with no charge for anything in the basket, all of it unharmed by the drop. It feels like an insult, but Daniel needs the juice and Charlie needs milk for her cereal. In the end, it's a remarkably economic trip. The only money spent is twenty-five cents to call Laurel to come get him. He had walked, but now his knees are shaking a little.

"H'lo?" She sounds drugged with sleep, and he feels a stab of guilt for waking her.

"Laurel." His voice is hoarse, close to the squeaking point, and he swallows.

"What's wrong?" She sounds instantly more awake. "Are you okay?"

"Have had... difficulties. No injuries, but would deeply appreciate ride home."

"I'll be right there. Wait outside the main entrance, okay?"

"Thank you." He hangs up and makes his way out, clutching his bags. He sits on the curb with his head resting on his knees, and only looks up when Laurel stops in front of him, in the little silver sedan she has because she refuses to drive the 'mom van'.

"Jesus, Walter." Her brow crinkles as she looks at him. He has no idea how he looks, but it must be pitiful. "Get in, baby." She has never called him this before, but neither of them comments on it as he gets into the shotgun seat. They leave the parking lot in silence, and he wonders if they'll get all the way home without speaking when she asks him again what happened. He explains, and her knuckles go white on the wheel. His voice cracks near the end of his recital, and he stops, shivering. "Was... was afraid."

"Can't say I blame you, Walter." She says, all forced casualness.

"Could never be allowed to see Charlie again." He feels and sounds strangled articulating it, the thought he had been coldly ignoring the whole time, and covers his face when he feels the water finally spilling out of his eyes.

"Those motherfuckers." Laurel growls, and cracks her window, lighting a cigarette. "Walter, I'll tell you one thing: I'd throw in all my money with all of Dan's, and we'd hock the goddamn furniture to pay the best attack lawyers we could find. You're more that kid's mother than I am, and... We're a family, goddammit." She crushes her cigarette into the ashtray, rolling the window the rest of the way down to dissipate the smoke. "Walter, we'd go on the lam to keep you with Charlie. Don't think we wouldn't."


	15. Chapter 15

It's probably going to snow in time for Thanksgiving, and Walter looks at the bare trees outside the window. Laurel holds his hand the whole way home, only letting go to shift gears. They go inside to find Charlie asleep in the hallway outside Dan's room, toy cars scattered around her. Laurel smiles and scoops her up without waking her, letting Walter corral the cars and follow her back to Charlie's room. It calms him, the way it always does, his friendly sea of impressionistic fish, one of which is now wearing glasses, and another of which has been given wings with the same crayons.

"I think it's an improvement." Laurel says, as though reading his mind.

"Me too." He smiles faintly for the first time since this morning, and arranges Charlie's blankets before they tiptoe out. Daniel is too ill to bother, and still probably contagious, so he follows Laurel to her room, and lets her pull him into her bed and wrap around him, warm and soothing. "Will... will this affect the finalization hearing?"

"I'd like to see them try. You didn't do anything wrong." She kisses the top of his head, nuzzling his hair. "Walter, you fucking love that kid and if they've got a problem with that we can all bleach our hair and run away to Mexico."

"Would make a terrible blonde." He tells her. "Would disagree violently with skin tone."

"Maybe I'd just bleach mine up to red, and you could be the blonde."

"What about Daniel?" He says, starting to be amused against his will.

"Bleach blonde with a mustache." She says decidedly, and Walter makes an exaggerated gagging noise. "Yeah, it would be pretty terrible." She giggles and hugs him tightly. "It won't come to that, baby."

"Have never called me that before."

"Shut up and take your sympathy, because I think we're out of tea." Her hands slide under the hem of his shirt, and then stop, just resting on him, skin to skin. "I do like you, you crazy bastard."

"Mm. Not crazy anymore. Have doctor's note." He turns in her arms, resting his head on her breasts, still blown away that it's allowed. "Like you very much as well, Laurel." They doze together like this for a while, and then the inevitable happens, Laurel slowly tugging off his shirt, less as a tease and more to give him time to object. He doesn't, though. It took Daniel a long time to show him that this could be a comfort, but Laurel can reap the benefits now as he helps her strip him.

"I thought you said no injuries, punk." He blinks and looks down at himself, seeing a few scrapes and bruises.

"No real injuries."

"Whatever." She pulls her own shirt off and sighs as he suckles her, feeling the strange security of the action rolling over him like a dark wave. She cradles his head and holds him close, and he can't help the little profoundly relieved noises that slip out around his mouthful. She hushes him, soothes him, calls him baby and he can't even comment on the appropriateness of the appellation as she reaches down to wrap a hand around him where he's half hard. He whines as she strokes him slowly, bringing him the rest of the way.

"L-laurel..."

"I can stop if you want."

"Do not want." He mutters, the words dissolving into a purr as she squeezes, chuckling softly.

"You're closer to the drawer."

And he is, so he reaches over and gets them a rubber. He doesn't like the way they feel, and has painful associations with them, but Laurel doesn't want to get pregnant and the pill makes her miserable. She knows all this, and smiles, taking it from him to roll it on, smiling faintly as she meets his eyes. He looks steadily back, but can't help but blush. She grins, rolling onto her back and pulling him with her and then inside her, wrapping long legs around him and rocking until neither of them can worry about the hearing or anything else.


	16. Chapter 16

Dan is croaking like a raven, but upon hearing of Walter's misadventure, drags himself over to the phone to let the store manager know exactly what he thinks about the training of their security (if you can call it that) and several other things, at the end of which he slams the receiver down, and looks over to see Charlie standing near the doorway, her dolphin under her arm. She looks troubled, and he smiles for her. "It's all right, baby. C'mere, I'm not contagious anymore." Charlie hugs his leg. "Who are you mad at?"

He sighed. "I need more juice, so come with me to the kitchen and I'll explain." She leads the way, and gets him a glass without being asked, beaming when he ruffles her hair before settling at the kitchen table. "A long time ago, Walter went crazy for a while and did some bad things."

"How bad?"

"Pretty bad, but he didn't go to jail because it wasn't really his fault. You can get better from being crazy, and he has."

"Oh."

"But some people don't believe it, and some people think he did things he didn't do."

"Like what?"

"Well, just now they thought he was going to steal a little boy."

"...But you have me."

Dan grins at her. "Yeah. And Walter has always been good to children, so it would be just as silly a thing to think if we didn't."

Charlie nods, hugging her dolphin. "Were they mean to him?"

"Yes, and that's why I'm angry with them."

Satisfied, Charlie watches him finish his nasty juice (she tried some when she woke up, and it's sour and bitter) and then puts the glass in the dishwasher for him, because he's sick. She asks him if Walter is feeling better, and it's all he can do not to laugh when he says yes, thinking of Walter's speckled limbs tangled with Laurie's smooth, golden ones in a lazy, sated pile. Joining them sounds good, a sure sign that he's on the mend, but first, he has a few more calls to make.

"Daniel."

Dan jumps, then finishes hanging up the phone. "Finally awake?"

"Shouldn't be talking so much. Bad for your throat." Rorschach is lurking in a manner remarkably similar to Charlie's, wearing Laurie's bathrobe over what are probably her jeans.

"It's just a cold, and this is important." The sound of the upstairs shower running tells them both where Laurie is.

"Hrmph." Walter sits down beside Dan, then blinks, seeing which numbers Dan has pulled out of his files. "Lawyers?"

"Yeah. I'm not gonna sue anybody, but I am gonna fix it so you get everything if Laurie and I get hit by a bus."

"Don't need..."

"Everything includes custody, Walter. I'm not gonna have you tiptoeing around with the threat of Charlie being taken away over your head." He's carefully not looking at his partner, and is blindsided a bruisingly tight hug.

The legal arrangements are made quickly and well, one of Dan's most valuable inheritances from his father being his good relationship with the old firm of Davis and Alan. It helps that Charlie's biological parents have given up any and all claim to her, vanishing into a darkness they all recognize, where people who have already fucked up go on to fuck up worse and worse, eventually emerging onto prison rosters and murder cases. Still, Dan makes very sure to sever anything that's left. He feels like a brooding bird, viciously flying at anything that even contemplates threatening his child. The idea is amusing enough to pull him back to the present, and he smiles at Charlie, who is drawing a face on a jack-o-lantern with a ballpoint pen and a look of extreme concentration.

"Got it, buddy?"

"Yeah!"

Walter comes over with the massive butcher knife that will be perfect for the job and should never, ever be put into the hands of a little kid, and gets to work, following the lines. They've already piled up old newspapers, and Laurie grins as she watches the goony face with its mismatched eyes take shape. It has a massive grin, and ends up looking cheerfully demented and almost lecherous. Dan bursts out laughing, and Charlie watches in fascination as he lights the stub of an emergency candle and sets it into the hollow. She claps with delight, watching it for a while before bouncing up to help them throw out the pumpkin innards, Walter muttering vaguely about waste.

Dan rolls his eyes. "Yeah, toasted pumpkin seeds will feed Ethiopia."

Walter looks a little sheepish, and smiles. "Suppose you're right."

"You can toast pumpkin seeds?"

"Sure can." Dan says, scooping Charlie up even though she's even heavier now, growing like a weed. "They're pretty good, too, but I'm too lazy to do it this year."

"Maybe next time." Charlie says, thinking of future candy. She'll be going out tomorrow, trick-or-treating for the very first time. Before, Halloween had passed unremarked like every other holiday. She has a dim memory of Mommy giving her a dress, and figures it must've been her birthday. It had been nice, until Daddy came home mad and she had to hide. She's glad Dan and Walter don't get angry that much. Laurie does, but that's okay, she doesn't hit and she's hardly ever mad at Charlie.

"Looking forward to Halloween?" Dan asks, setting her down, and she nods. Dan will be with her, to keep her from getting lost or anything, and she'll probably run into Samantha and some of the other kids. "It was always one of my favorites."

"What do you mean 'was'? You're a total kid, Dan." Laurie says, and she's right, because there's a modified bathrobe and an improvised lightsaber resting beside Charlie's bat costume in Walter's study.

"Okay, okay, 'is'." Dan puts his hand over his heart. "But I do solemnly swear not to steal any of my kid's candy."

"Hurm. Thought it suspicious that bowl for children was loaded with your favorites."

"I regret nothing." Dan grins. "Besides, everybody likes Snickers."


	17. Chapter 17

Charlie bursts out in the darkness with Dan following. The street is full of lights, Halloween lights on some houses, flashlights in the hands of trick-or-treaters, candles glowing and flaring in a hundred jack-o-lantern eyes. She has a plastic one for her candy, and she and Dan make their way down the street. The Hendersons and one of their older kids are in, giving out fistful of miniature Mr. Goodbars, Kit-Kats and plain chocolate bars and holding to the obscure version of the festivities where one must do a trick to get a treat. Fortunately, Charlie has learned to stand on her hands, and after a terrible pun about acro-bat-ics that makes her giggle just because of the way it makes Dan wince, Mr. Henderson gives her a big handful.

She grins from ear to ear, and thanks him, running off down the sidewalk. Dan follows, brown robe flapping a little. They run into Samantha halfway down the next block, and she squeals with glee. "Your wings are so cool!"

"But they don't have glitter!"

Samantha is a fairy princess, and her sheer wings do indeed have glitter. In three colors. Charlie is suitably impressed, and the two of them make an interesting pair, running along ahead of Dan and Samantha's mom. Photo-negatives of one another, they dash from door to door, piping voices creating a duet of the old chant.

Dan smiles, and turns to Mrs. Sinacore, who seems to have followed a similar route of bathrobe conversion, winding up as an angel instead of a Jedi knight. "Well, fancy meeting you here."

She laughs softly, glowstick halo shining yellow. "Nice costume. Where did you get Charlie's?"

"Walter made it."

"He did?" She's doing her best to keep the surprise and curiosity out of her voice, and he appreciates the effort.

"Yeah. They said 'unskilled' in all the reports, and it kinda bugged me, since he really does have talent. He makes some of her school clothes, too."

"Wow. I mean, Samantha isn't completely pre-fab, but it's mostly modification."

"It's good, though." They watch the kids bound onto a porch one house ahead, ringing the bell. "Where's Peter?"

"At home, helping Daddy hand out candy. He's still too little to really go a route that would satisfy Samantha. I took him around my mother's apartment complex this afternoon, though."

"What'd he go as?" And Dan feels like he's given himself away as a perpetual kid, but dammit, that's always the first question about Halloween: what are you going as?

"He only said he wanted to be orange, so we went with a pumpkin costume. He's adorable."

"Orange, huh?"

Samantha and Charlie take hours to tire out, sometimes joining groups of other kids from school, but mostly remaining a pair, leaping and running along, ringing bells and filling their own containers and parental pockets as well. It's an avalanche of candy, and Dan and Samatha's parents are as one in their resolve to keep the girls from eating themselves sick. Naturally, they insist on hitting each other's houses. The Sinacores are closer, so they stop there first, to get cups of cider from Darth Vader and the pumpkin. The girls are both drooping, but when Mrs. Sinacore offers Dan and Charlie a ride home, Samantha insists on coming along.

As they pull up, Dan is snapped out of his fatigue (man, Nite Owl really must be a memory if he's tired at half-past eleven) by a shot of adrenaline like one of Zeus's thunderbolts. Walter (although he looks more like Rorschach right now) is in some kind of physical altercation with someone. That's all that registers at first, and he's out of the car before it registers fully. That it's a high school kid, and that Walter's not touching him, save for one firm hand on the back of his collar as he struggles. There's a little boy dressed as a fireman whose lip is wobbling as he struggles not to cry, a plastic pumpkin like Charlie's rolling on the sidewalk, one side dented, treats scattered.

"Pick it up." Walter sounds deadly, but reasonable. The kid twists around to regard this pint-sized, apparently crazy adult, half-assedly dressed like a pirate from things Laurie had found lying around the house, and seems to see something in his eyes that forestalls further argument. He kneels on the sidewalk before God and everybody, and scoops everything back into the pumpkin. "Fix the dent." Walter is unrelenting, and Dan wants to burst out laughing at how little some things change. The kid is pale as he pops the dent out of the side of the pumpkin, but Dan can't muster up much sympathy. The miniature fireman who takes his candy back with timid, slightly pudgy hands can't be more than seven, and the punk has to be about twice his age and size. "Now apologize."

"Sorry." He mutters, staring at the ground.

"Shameful." Walter adds, disgustedly. "Next year pick on someone your own size." The kid makes no response, running off. Walter shakes his head. "Very bad. I despair, sometimes."

"Nk you, Mr. Kovacs."

"You're welcome."

He runs off as well, in what Dan is glad to note is the opposite direction of the bully. Charlie laughs and runs to hug Walter's legs, effectively breaking the tension by dubbing him the hero of the night, and dragging her friend in to tell Laurie all about their adventures. She saw all the action from the front window, and grins under the brim of her witch hat. "Really, it was just a matter of which of us was closer to the door. Nice touch making him fix the pumpkin, though."

"Seemed appropriate."

At about midnight they finally get all the candy sorted and swapped, and all adventures and cool costumes encountered rehashed, and then Mrs. Sinacore thanks them all for their hospitality carries her comatose daughter out to the car. Walter watches them, and Dan knows it's creeping her out, but his unconscious sigh of relief when they're safely on their way makes him squeeze Walter's hand. It's so hard for him sometimes, living here. He smiles a little, and carts Charlie upstairs, helping her out of the bat costume and into bed.

"W'lt'r?"

"Yes. Have a good Halloween?"

"Yeah." She yawns and falls asleep to dream of dolphins in the wake of a pirate ship.


	18. Chapter 18

Really, fall and winter is a mass of holidays. Charlie had only vaguely guessed before, seeing bright things go by the windows, seeing them on tv. Now it's the run-up to Thanksgiving. She's excited to have a three-day weekend, and listens with fascination to the story of the first Thanksgiving, and makes turkeys by tracing her hand with the rest of the class. Hers is a riot of bizarre rainbow colors that no real turkey has ever been. Samantha's is a girl turkey, with pretty pastels and a flower on its head. All in all, the day is satisfactory.

It's gotten colder, but Walter still walks her home. He's learning to knit, and the scarf she loops around her neck on the way out is the first fruit of his labor, soft and a pretty royal blue. With her jacket and its hood, along with her mittens and boots, she's quite warm enough. Walter hardly seems to feel the cold, in an old bomber jacket and tennis shoes, but he's submitted to the season enough to add a stocking cap. Charlie grins and takes his hand, showing him her turkey. He is suitably impressed, and swings her into his arms for part of the journey. Shadow and Spike aren't out when they pass the Henderson's, and Charlie is glad.

"We also talked about what we're thankful for."

"Oh?"

"And I said I was thankful for you and Dan and Laurie and Samantha."

"Well, we're all thankful for you." He says quietly, and she beams at him. When they get home, she shows everyone her turkey and tells about her day, and then goes to play with her shark.

Walter sighs, slumping into a seat by the kitchen table. "You all right?" Dan asks, settling beside him.

"Could still lose her."

"Man, don't think like that. There's no reason for it to happen."

"...Bad things don't need a reason."

"Walter, I know you can't help but worry, but for god's sake. We feed her, clothe her, love her, and would rather kill ourselves than abuse her."

"I'm still a menace to society."

Laurie rolls her eyes from where she's prodding at the stew in the crockpot. "You haven't been one for years, Walter."

"People don't seem too convinced."

"If you mean those fucks at the grocery store..."

"Not what I was thinking of, but good example."

"Walter. Buddy. Leprechaun-like light of my life. We'll be fine."

"Am not a leprechaun."

"I dunno, if you wore more green..."

"Laurel."

"Seriously, though. You're great with that kid, and you haven't hurt a fly in years."

Walter just sighs. "At least we have Thanksgiving. Trust turkey has thawed?"

"Yep. All the way through, I checked."

"Wonderful."


	19. Chapter 19

The next day breakfast is just a bowl of cereal for everybody, and then it's time to start cooking dinner. Charlie begins to see why one only does this once a year, and helps where she can, crushing walnuts for the stuffing and watching in fascination as Dan chops celery into perfect little bits. Laurie is breaking up a stale loaf of that hard bread she likes so much, getting crumbs everywhere, and Walter lurks in the background, pulling out cans and bottles and boxes of things from the pantry.

"Got those broken up, buddy?" Dan asks. "We don't want them too small, remember."

They're not too small, and she watches with pride as he mixes them in. She's only had the stovetop kind of stuffing that's never even seen a bird, and they all assure her that the real kind is better. Dan crams it in, making faces at how icky it is, exaggerating them to make Charlie and Laurie laugh. She looks around at the soft thump of Walter hopping onto the counter to get a mixing bowl of his own, the way she does when she needs something. Dan and Laurie are trying to keep her from climbing on things, and shake their heads at him for being a bad example. "Shelves are too high," is all Walter says, smiling softly.

"Yeah, they're too high, we're not too short." Charlie bounces over to hug his leg, and he laughs.

"Exactly." He's making the filling for pies, and Charlie is fascinated, sampling a sugary pecan to make sure she'll like the finished product. She already knows she likes pumpkin pie, they made some for a bake sale before Halloween. Walter doesn't them the way Dan makes stuffing, like he's just remembering how. He reads the directions on the can of pumpkin and the bottle of Karo, and helps Charlie to do the same. After he's done, he posts himself by the oven, basting the turkey for hours with Rorschach's inhuman patience. Charlie sits with him for some of the time, and fetches Laurie's tonic water for some of the time, and helps Dan to peel potatoes.

There's only one peeler, and she gets it because it has a plastic guard that makes it hard to hurt yourself. Dan uses a real knife, and she's fascinated by the neat strips of skin he makes with no guide. He tells her about his mother teaching him to do it, and she can feel Walter listening too. In the other room Laurie is chinking the ice in her glass and flipping through the channels on tv. "You guys need any help in there?" She calls.

"I think we've got it for now."

And they do, but Laurie comes back in to make the green beans while Dan mashes the potatoes. The green beans are her job because she's the worst at cooking and they're the easiest, like when all of them go shopping and it's Walter's job to move and carry things while Dan and Laurie talk to people, because he's the worst at being in public. Dan uses the electric mixer on potatoes, which is just bizarre to watch, and Walter teaches Charlie how to make gravy. Dan says it's an honest-to-god miracle when they get everything on the table at the same time, and then Laurie runs off and they can hear the can opener.

Dan laughs. "Right, cranberry sauce."

They all sit down and Laurie lights some candles, Charlie staring in fascination at the flame. There's a funny moment of silence, and then Walter coughs and admits that he'd like to say grace in the tone of voice he uses when he's embarrassed about something, and Dan says he doesn't see why not. Charlie knows some families pray before every meal, but doesn't really know how to do it. Still, she has the vague idea that everyone bows their heads, which they do, and they they clasp their two hands together, which they don't. Without any discussion, everyone clasps each other's instead, making a circle around the table. Because it was Walter's idea, he's the one who talks.

"Lord," he says, as though God is standing next to them, "we thank You for what we are about to receive and ask only to stay together. Amen."

Dan and Laurie echo the last word, so Charlie does to. She almost doesn't want to let go, but she's hungry, so she does, and Laurie laughs softly and says they're already been a miracle she is very thankful for, and that's the turkey cooking evenly. Dan adds that he's thankful he remembers how to carve, despite having Chinese takeout for years of Thanksgivings, alone or with Walter.

"Ick, really?"

"We were younger, it was different. But yeah, ick. You want white or dark meat, buddy?"

Charlie always takes dark, as does Walter. The turkey isn't dry, thanks to his constant attention, and they're right about the stuffing. Dan had assured her earlier that the point of the holiday was to eat as much as you possibly could, and she puts herself to the task with a will. There's still a lot left over when they all finally shuffle off to the living room to attempt to recover, watching the parade on tv. Apparently it's in New York, where all three of them used to live. She's seen it before, but this is much better, sleepy and stuffed and tucked in between Walter and Dan on the couch. She actually does doze off for a little while, and apparently Walter accompanies her, because Laurie shakes them both awake for dessert. Walter sits up really fast muttering about the pies, and Laurie laughs.

"It's okay, Dan got them into the oven and whipped cream and everything. Come on."

Home made whipped cream is amazing. It's not sweet like the regular kind, but that doesn't matter because the pie is. Pecan pie is also amazing, and she and Walter make a very respectable dent in the total amount before they have to quit and go back to the couch.


	20. Chapter 20

It's after Thanksgiving but well before Christmas when they have to wake up on a Saturday, early enough to go school. Walter makes her wear a pale yellow dress that she has to admit is pretty, even if it's too fussy and the skirt gets in the way. She puts her foot down about the shoes, though. She will not wear the mary janes that go with the dress, and she doesn't care what they do. So they let her be, and she skips through the courthouse metal detector in her usual red high-tops. Walter won't let go of her hand and it hurts a little, but she can tell that this is like the Henderson's dogs only worse. Laurie has her other hand, and Charlie can tell she's nervous, even though she's hiding it better. Dan is talking to someone behind a counter. It's kind of like school, she decides. You ask where to go at the office.

Walter is not good at school, and he's not good at this, either. Charlie studies him sympathetically. He wears his one good suit well, even if his ears are red with nerves and misery. Laurie notices it too, and his too-tight grip. "Walter, take a deep breath and ease up on the kid's hand."

"Sorry." He murmurs.

"It didn't really hurt, but this is better." They all look up as Dan comes back to them, and he smiles.

"Come on, guys. First one on the right, upstairs."

Charlie has seen courtrooms on tv, but never in real life, and is too fascinated to be bored while the grownups talk. Mr. Sims is there, like Dan said he would be, and so is Mr. Liebowitz, who looks a little like Santa and has already done something good for them, she doesn't really understand what. He's their lawyer, because even though they went through the Agency, people are funny about Walter. The judge is a little old lady with her puffy-white cloud hair in a bun exactly on top of her little head. She's not much bigger than Charlie and about six shades darker, so she's a very interesting grownup to look at.

As far as Charlie can tell, the idea is to make sure she will be okay with Laurie and Dan and Walter. She's not too worried, because everyone has to swear not to lie, and that means no one can tell lies about Walter. She swings her feet as Dan and Laurie both talk about Charlie and their routine at home, and Dan and Mr. Liebowitz both talk about some complicated legal stuff that apparently makes it okay that Dan and Laurie haven't gotten married yet. She didn't actually know they were planning to, and wonders what being a flower girl would be like.

She's so busy with that that she doesn't hear at first that apparently she's supposed to talk now. It's interesting to cross the floor, and sit up in the stand. She swears not to lie, and then they ask her some questions. She tells them about her room and the mural, and how when Laurie breaks down and smokes a cigarette in the car she blows it out the window and always tells Charlie never to start. About how she helps Dan with the models he builds sometimes, and how he never gets mad even if she spills the glue, and how late Walter stayed up to finish her Halloween costume, and about Thanksgiving.

At the end of it all, the little old lady judge says they can keep her. She doesn't say it like that, but that's what it means, and that's why Walter is crying, because it doesn't always mean you're sad.


	21. Chapter 21

Apparently, you sometimes get a bonus holiday. There's another kid in her class who gets two, but his are different. His dad does Christmas, and his mom something called Kwanzaa. Charlie doesn't know that much about Hanukkah, but Dan says it's gonna happen before Christmas this year. Christmas is always the same day, but Hanukkah isn't. And it's a whole week. Apparently there are candles involved, too. It's the last day of school before they get let out for the holiday break, and she runs out of the building and into Walter's arms, a Christmas ornament in one hand and a Hanukkah decoration in the other. "Hi!"

He chuckles, the sound kind of stiff and strained, like it's rusty. "Hi. What have you made?" He scoops her up and heads off down the sidewalk, leaving new prints in the inch or so of snow that's fallen this morning. Charlie is happy to tell him all about the shiny gold star of David and the colored cutout of Rudolph, and he listens attentively. The Henderson's yard is quiet, the dogs inside. Really, the whole neighborhood is quiet, everything frosted with snow and nobody out of school yet but the morning kindergarten, and Walter's hair where it sticks out from underneath the same stocking cap he's been wearing since fall is the only color in the world. A few more flakes fall from the grey sky, and Charlie catches some on her tongue as they make their way home.

Laurie's in the kitchen when they get back, making grilled cheese sandwiches for everybody as some tomato soup heats up on the back burner. Charlie only runs up and hugs her after she steps away from the stove, just like Walter taught her. Laurie laughs, and pulls of Charlie's hat and gloves, hearing all about the ornaments. Dan comes in during the explanation (that she wanted something pretty for Hanukkah even though there's no Hanukkah tree to put it on, and that Rudolph makes her think of Walter) still holding a rag full of silver polish, and laughs. Then asks her if she wants to come help him clean the menorah, which hasn't been used in decades and really needs it.

With Dan and Charlie devoted to their task, the others are left in the kitchen, Laurie stirring the soup as Walter turns the little reindeer over and over in his fingers, throat strangely tight. "You are an amazing creature, often maligned," Laurie says, not looking up from the pale orange soup. She almost jumps out of her skin when Walter hugs her tightly from behind, arms around her waist careful not to interfere with her stirring. He holds on for a long moment, and Laurie just stands there with him, flipping the sandwiches before they can burn. "Walter?" She asks, after a long, long silence.

"Yes?" He mutters, muffled in her hair.

"Are you okay?"

"...Yes." He sounds as surprised as anybody about it, and steps away, dazed. Goes to watch Daniel show Charlie how to get the little engraved places clean, black tarnish sloughing off to reveal gleaming silver. It's soothing, somehow, and then the food is ready, and he knows it's childish, but it's one of his favorites. Charlie learns to dip her sandwich, and devours the result before running off to play. Laurie laughs, and Dan makes all the adults seconds.

Apparently Hanukkah is a nighttime thing. Dan checks what time the sun will go down, because the sky is just soft grey getting dimmer and dimmer, and it's hard to see for themselves. You have to light the first candle right at sunset, and so they're all gathered at the appointed time, as Dan takes the servant candle (the actual Hanukkah ones are special, and aren't allowed to do any work besides sitting in the menorah being pretty) and lights the first one. There are three graces for this, or something like a grace, in a language she's never heard. She just stands there in the candlelight holding hands with Laurie and Walter, listening.

Dan is actually surprised at how quickly it comes back to him He speaks slowly, wanting to be sure of getting it right, and it reels out like it's supposed to, "Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha‑olam, asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner hanuka." He smiles slightly, and translates, "Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the universe, Who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to kindle the Hanukkah light."

Charlie is fascinated, by the strange sounds and all the meaning they have, and how Dan knows what that meaning is. The second one sounds like "Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha‑olam, she‑asa nisim la‑avoteinu ba‑yamim ha‑heim ba‑z'man ha‑ze" and means that god is amazing for his miracles that kept everyone okay, and the last one is, "Barukh atah Adonai Eloheinu melekh ha‑olam, she‑hehiyanu v'kiy'manu v'higi'anu la‑z'man ha‑ze" and means a thanks to god for letting them be here together, which Charlie definitely understands.

She squeezes Laurie and Walter's hands, and everything is solemn for another minute, before Dan turns and grins at her, explaining that the fun part starts now. She gets a dollar for every night of Hanukkah, but no presents because they're going to have Christmas presents and that's enough for anybody. There's also a game with a spinning top that's enough like gambling to make Walter frown, but they're only playing with candy, nuts, and raisins, so of course he joins in, and eats all his and Laurie's winnings.


	22. Chapter 22

On the last night, Dan asks if she wants to give her last dollar to charity instead. And she looks around at all of them and says yes, because she's only here today because of the kindness of strangers. Dan grins and tells her she's a good kid. By morning everything is packed away, and it's still five days until Christmas. All three of them are being very mysterious, but it means a lot of trips to get cocoa and look at the Christmas lights, so Charlie isn't complaining.

A lot of the time it's Walter who goes with her, and he always gets them both cocoa with whipped cream, taking a test sip of Charlie's to make sure it's not too hot. They never talk, because Walter doesn't talk much and it's easy to be quiet around him. They stand side by side and gaze up at the dazzling lights until they're tired, walking the whole four blocks where the city has really gone all out. Walter usually has to carry Charlie at least partway home after all this, but he doesn't seem to mind.

There are lights at home, too, carefully put up by everyone working together. It's Dan's job to do the hard to reach ones and the ones on the roof outside, it's Walter's job to hold the ladder, and Laurie's to switch the breakers on and off and warn them that they're gonna break their necks. Charlie hopes they won't, and watches carefully, relieved and then awestruck when it's all in place. They all stand in the driveway to take a look at it, and Laurie chuckles, lightly holding Charlie against her hip. "Way to show off, Dan."

"I can't help it if I"m mechanically adroit," Dan says, drawing himself up to his full height with exaggerated primness.

"Pretty," Rorschach grunts.

"Well, Tarzan likes it."

And all of them laugh, even Walter, and Charlie asks who Tarzan is, so they all go inside so Dan can read her the old books until she falls asleep, the others close by.

As they carry the kid off to bed, Laurie teases Walter for liking being read to just as much, just to hear him deny it, which he does. And then he carefully tucks Charlie in, kisses her forehead, and ghosts out again. To find Dan, who is of course devouring his dusty old stash of boy's adventure like the big kid he is. He looks up like he knows he's been caught, but Walter just sits down beside him and leans on him, eyes closed. Dan starts reading aloud, and Laurie smiles, settling in on the other side.

After a chapter, Rorschach yawns. "Getting tree tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Real." He looks up at Dan, gaze pinning him to the wall. "Must be real. No lead and asbestos trojan horse."

Dan laughs, "Jesus, Walter! I'll get a real one."

"I like how they smell, but mom said 'fuck it, silver tinsel.'"

"Well, it's time to fix that. But for now it's time to go to bed."


	23. Chapter 23

"Oh god, we are so old." Laurie hops up and stretches, and Dan just shakes his head.

"Says the gorgeous girl a near-decade younger than her companions." He heaves himself up as well. He's still stout, but a good chunk of that post-retirement sad weight has come off, and she smiles to see the way Walter's watching him from the couch.

"Well, are you two old men completely exhausted, or..." She leaves it hanging, and Walter flushes deep red anyway. Dan grins and pulls him up, kissing him roughly and making him shudder and cling to the front of Dan's shirt.

"So I guess that's a sign you're not," she says, breathless.

"Are we, buddy?" Dan murmurs, and Walter pulls himself together, looking furious at them for making him feel this way and want it so much the way they do. He grabs their hands, and drags them to his and Daniel's room, which already has a good deal of Laurie's stuff in it. Walter shoves Dan back onto the bed and pounces on him, devouring his mouth while maintaining an iron grip on Laurie's wrist, taut and shivering. It's true, they have been carving out time to sneak off and buy art supplies and stuffed animals rather than to fuck, lately, but damn.

She swallows hard and watches him leave massive bitemarks safely below collar height as Dan struggles to keep quiet, eyes huge behind his crooked glasses. "Ohgod..." It's a high, helpless whimper, and Walter growls, biting Dan's defenseless throat and then turning away, one hand still flat on Dan's chest. He kisses Laurie roughly, letting go of her wrist only to knot his hand in her hair, shaking.

"Holy shit," she mutters when she can breathe again, Walter sucking at the side of her neck. "Just tell us the next time you're this pent up. We'll take care of you." He makes a hungry, feral noise and bites her lower lip, making her groan and melt against him. "One of you lock the door." That snaps Dan out of his stupor, makes Walter actually pause for a moment while Dan heaves himself up and makes them reasonably secure. Laurie uses this time productively, flinging her clothes to the floor. Walter just stares at her and she can't help but think of werewolves, and get wetter than before. "Hey," she says, softly, like she would to a strange dog who might bite. "Remember what I said when we started this thing?"

And he does, because he flushes redder than ever. Laurie bends over the footboard and grins over her shoulder at him. "Oh fuck, you guys are gonna kill me," Dan squeaks, watching Walter dig a condom out of the drawer, blushing all over by now, hard enough to hang drywall on. He struggles out of his clothes and into the rubber, and then he's on her, caveman unleashed. He knots one hand into her hair, pulling painfully and sinking his teeth into her shoulder as he slams in. Laurie clamps down on him struggles not to scream, spreading a little further and grinding back, rock hard nipples rubbing against the smooth sheet.

Dan watches and wonders if this will be the death of him after all, pulling off his own clothes and kneeling beside the bed to kiss Laurie, who whimpers into his mouth. He can actually hear the wet slap of Walter's thighs against hers, hard and relentless, and they both groan in the same key until Dan can't stand it anymore and positions himself behind Walter, there's a pause, and then things start again, a little slower but so much harder, and Laurie groans, knees trembling as she bites a mouthful of blanket. Walter makes a tortured noise, and speeds up again, hammering at her in a way that will leave bruises tomorrow.

Laurie doesn't care. She wants her bruises, and scrabbles behind her to drag Walter down. He snarls and covers her back in bites, and she can hear Dan whimpering quietly, balls deep in Walter and clinging to his hips like a lifeline. Walter reaches around to stroke her swollen clit just hard enough, and she buries her face in the blanket, coming harder than she has in far too long. Walter sobs and hides his face in her back, following. They breathe together for a while, Walter whining softly as Dan keeps grinding into him, his own rhythm lost by trying to last. He mutters an apology under his breath, when Walter cuts him off with, "Hurts. Like it."

Laurie shudders, and cranes her neck to kiss him as Dan whines and kisses the back of Walter's neck, shuddering all over and sighing as he finally lets go. There's another moment of rest, and then Laurie mutters, "Three-car pileup," and Dan laughs, lurching upright.

Later, when they're all clean and curled up together in the dark, the door unlocked in case of nightmares, Walter shivers, and curls up into a tight ball, overcome by reactive embarrassment. Laurie still isn't quite sure what to do when he gets like this, but Dan just wraps his arms around him and holds him close, murmuring reassurances into his ear, rubbing his back. After a little while, Laurie joins in. Soon after that, sleepy kisses turn into sleep. There are no nightmares.


	24. Chapter 24

Sometimes the dream wavers a bit, and they remember who they are. All their ornaments are new. Walter's childhood is a horrible, mangled mess spelled out in reams of psychological files and case studies, and anything from Laurie's Christmases past is either property of the U.S. government or tucked into the attic of a woman who has purged all history she didn't make herself, department store things to hang on a silver tinsel tree. Now, watching Charlie balance on Walter's shoulders to place the angel topper the pair of them picked out, she wonders how many years they can keep the same glass baubles intact, like good luck charms.

On cue, Dan switches off the lights, and they all stand and admire their handiwork. There are some bird-shaped ornaments, and a few like various makes of airship. Glittering here and there are the prismatic snowflakes Walter had found on a clearance table, and Charlie's silver hearts. "Well, I didn't know we had it in us."

"This is the most beautiful Christmas tree in the world." Charlie speaks with great authority, her nod decisive and final, and Dan laughs, scooping her up.

"As long as you think so, buddy."

Surprisingly, there's no opposition from Walter on the whole Santa Claus business. He just mutters, "Didn't have luxury of faith," and suddenly makes it completely imperative, milk, cookies, and all. Slotting Brio together at three am, Laurie grins as Walter crunches down Santa's homemade sugar cookies and Dan arranges packages under the tree.

Charlie wakes up at eight, trying to remember why she's expecting anything, and then leaps out of bed because it's Christmas. She runs down and sure enough, Santa Claus has been here. The milk and cookies are gone, and there's all kinds of things that weren't there last night. Since the wooden train tracks are already set up, she plays with it quietly until Walter comes out and crouches beside her. "Merry Christmas, Charlie."

"Merry Christmas, Walter!" She hugs him tightly. "Is it just us?"

"For now. Should we wake the others up, or let them sleep a bit?"

She frowns, knowing that they probably need their sleep, but also desperate to find out what every single box holds as soon as possible. "How about... how about we make breakfast, then wake them up for that?"

Walter chuckles, and takes her hand, leading the way to the kitchen where they make hot chocolate and all kinds of other things that smell so good they don't even have to go get Dan and Laurie. They come slouching down like hungry bears out of their caves, and Charlie giggles at them. Finally, finally they can get to unwrapping. There's all kinds of things, even from people she hasn't met yet, like her Uncle Hollis and her grandma. She wonders how they can like her enough to get her presents without seeing her. Good presents, too, some toy cars and a beautiful doll.

Dan and Laurie have given each other and Walter all kinds of grown-up things like jewelry and books and clothes, and she's starting to wonder where Walter's presents are. She knows he's been making something for Dan, at least. And then there they are, three lumpy bundles in silver paper, tags in his chickenscratch. Dan beams when he finds them, and kisses Walter's cheek, making him blush.

"Talk about a guy who can keep a secret." Laurie smiles and takes hers from Dan, waiting to open it until Charlie has hers. She shreds the paper and then beams, pulling out a blue hat that matches her scarf. It's made in a kind of square shape, and the two corners are like a teddy bear's ears when she puts it on. Laurie has a sweater that's the softest gold color Charlie has ever seen, and Dan has a scarf of his own now, in brown and grey like feathers, and she laughs.

"I helped! I kept the yarns from getting tangled!"


	25. Chapter 25

It's New Year's Eve, and Charlie feels very grown up. She's staying up until midnight, and they're all going to watch the ball drop on tv. She doesn't really understand, but it's where they all used to live, and it shows when this year becomes next year, a mystery of demarcation that she's not even sure she wants to understand, though listening to Dan explain it is soothing. They're all having champagne, even Walter who doesn't like alcohol. She's glad they know when to stop, with Laurie's evening cocktail and Dan's beer and sometimes wine with dinner and nobody yelling or throwing anything. The champagne glasses are pretty, and so is the golden liquid inside them. Dan slowly revolves his glass for her, and the bubbles spiral too. It turns out to be nasty when Laurie lets her have a sip, and she can tell Walter is glad she doesn't like it.

Finally it's time. They watch with that massive, televised crowd as the ball drops like a falling moon, and they are in the future. When Charlie points this out, Laurie laughs, but there's something sad in her eyes. Only for a moment, and Charlie has to wonder if she imagined it, yawning and wobbly with fatigue.

"I guess we are, kiddo. And our first act in this glorious future of ours is gonna be to put you to bed." Dan tickles her and she wriggles and shrieks, fleeing. She only pretends not to want to go to bed, and they know she's pretending, Dan chasing her all the way to her room, where she puts on pajamas and goes to wash her face and brush her teeth. She's nearly asleep on her feet by the time she's done, but demands a story anyway. She's asleep long before the end, and dreams of flaming birds and wolves that can talk.

"Russian fairytale, Daniel?"

He jumps, running into Walter in the hallway. "Oh, come on!" He keeps his voice low in deference to their passed out daughter. "I promise it won't turn her communist."

"Never know what will do it, Daniel."

It's then he realizes that Walter is fucking with him, and grins, scooping him up and kissing him. Walter points out that they're supposed to kiss for luck anyway, even if it after the stroke of midnight. They certainly can't leave out Laurie, and they track her down in the kitchen where she's rinsing the glasses and humming. Three people kissing at once doesn't really work, but it's fun trying.


	26. Chapter 26

Charlie turns six on the fourteenth of January, and since that's a Tuesday this year, she has a party at school. Samantha gives her some glittery bracelets and a matching barrette, and about half an hour before they're out anyway, Walter brings the cake he's been working on since before breakfast. He's still nervous about being at school, and being swarmed by kindergarteners doesn't help much, and she's proud of how calm he is as he sets it on the nice clean craft table. Dan puts down some paper plates that have green cats on them (Charlie likes green, and cats), and carefully cuts the cake as Laurie comes in with a cardboard box that turns out to contain party favors. Just a cheapo plastic ring and a piece of candy for everybody, but the rings come in a variety of shapes and the candies are good. Charlie takes one with a cat's head and there's a butterfly for Samantha and a spider for Angie and so on down the line.

Evelyn Dubois really can't help but worry just a bit. She does have Rorschach and a large blade in her classroom, but Mr. Dreiberg seems to keeping both things in order. Ms. Juspeczyk comes up to the desk and offers her the box. "Pick a ring and a flavor, you're not getting left out."

She has to laugh, opting for a flower and cherry, respectively. "Thank you." Laurel is wearing a skull-shaped ring of her own. And no other despite her apparent status as Charlie's mother. Really, the three of them have caused a bit of speculation in the teacher's lounge. Evelyn is a rather traditional woman, but looking into those clear grey eyes full of laughter, she can't muster any disapproval. Besides, the proof is in the pudding, which is Charlie, devouring the slice with the biggest frosting rose, perched in her uncle's or other father's or whatever's lap. She is glowing with joy, which seems to increase threefold when Mr. Dreiberg reveals that he's brought something to read them.

Evelyn prides herself on an orderly class. Not a scared, sterile one, they are little kids, but still. So it's a credit to her that they settle around the big chair where she reads to them, still stuffing cake into their faces as Mr. Dreiberg makes himself comfortable. It's a clever cake, too, made in three layers to be vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, so you can eat what you like and leave the rest. She takes a slice of her own and pulls up a chair near the crowd of children on the floor. Charlie sits between her... two other co-parents, happy as a clam.

The story turns out to be about a baby bird and its struggles to fly. The pictures are good and he thoughtfully turns the book to show them, and the story is sensitive without being saccharine, but it's the voices that really sell it. The kids are spellbound and she's not far behind them. She worries about some of them, and their parents who never read anything but the TV Guide, but she's pretty sure she doesn't have to worry about Charlie.

On the way home Charlie skips along between Walter and Laurie, and thanks Dan for reading her favorite book, and Walter for the cake.

"Was pretty enough?"

"Samantha said it was pretty, and you know her."

There are presents at home, of course, but not very many. After all, there's still all that new stuff from Christmas. There's another cake, though. A little one after dinner, with a number six candle on it. No one has ever told her about blowing the candles out and making a wish, but Laurie explains it, and why they didn't do it at school, since the school might've fussed about the fire. And yes, fire is dangerous, but it's pretty, and this is just a little one. She studies it for a long moment and then blows it out, unspoken wish tucked to her heart: _I wish for all of us to stay together like we are now._

And they do stay together. Uncle Hollis and Grandma visit after her birthday with belated presents, and then go away again, with promises to return for the wedding, which isn't until April because Laurie doesn't want to get married in winter. Even without it, the four of them are one thing, and that makes Charlie happy. Sometimes Walter and Laurie fight, and sometimes they fight with Dan, but nobody hits anybody and they always make up. They have an awful one in February, though.

Everybody yells, even Walter, and Charlie hides in her room, clinging to her stuffed dolphin and bawling. The tears have stopped on their own by the time Laurie comes up and hugs her. Her voice is a little hoarse from shouting, but she's quiet now.

"Sorry about all that, Charlie." She sounds tired, and so sad that Charlie crawls into her lap and hugs her.

"...Is it okay now?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so. Walter was being... crazy, I guess. He still is, a little bit."

"But Dan said he got better."

"Oh no, baby. Not real bad crazy, just a little crazy."

"What were you fighting about?" She cuddles in against Laurie's chest, feeling better as strong arms tighten around her.

She sighs, and tells Charlie about Valentine's Day, and how they want to take Walter out to dinner, and how he doesn't think he's good enough to go with them and that it would make people talk about Laurie. "What he can't seem to get through his concrete head is that I don't care what people say, and we want to spend that evening with him."

"...What would people say?"

Laurie chuckles. "That we're weird, or bad parents. It wouldn't matter, you're legally ours now and it's not illegal to be weird."

Charlie giggles, and lets Laurie pet her. "You made up, though, right?"

"Yeah, we did."

Still, Charlie insists on coming out to check, holding Laurie's hand. Dan and Walter are on the couch, and they look tired. Walter is in Dan's lap, and Charlie supposes he was scared too. She goes and sits by them, hugging Walter. "Don't be crazy, Walter. I don't care what anyone says about anyone."

Dan laughs, and Walter looks at Laurie. "What have you been telling the child?"

She sticks her tongue out at him. "The truth. You were being crazy, and worrying what people would say." She goes into the kitchen and comes back with Cokes.

On Valentine's Day they cut out paper hearts at school, and give each other candy. At about six o'clock she goes to Samantha's house because Valentine's dinner dates are one of those grownup things. Samantha's parents are going out, too. Walter wants to wait in the car, but Laurie practically drags him up the steps. She's so pretty Charlie can hardly believe it, and Laurie is always pretty. Walter swallows hard and clings to her hand. Mr. Sinacore answers, and he looks a little surprised to see Walter there and dressed up, but lets them so they can meet the babysitter and get Charlie comfortable.


	27. Chapter 27

Walter is always loath to leave Charlie with anyone else, but even he has to admit the girl seems solid and capable, with her CPR certificate and AP Calculus homework. She has also apparently handled the Sinacore children for some time with no complaints from anyone, so with a last piercing stare Walter must concede. He crouches, hugs Charlie and promises to save her some dessert, then all three of them file out to Laurie's little silver car. Charlie waves from the window as they drive off, and can see Walter's freckled face looking back at her through the rear window.

"Relax, Walter." Daniel is turned around in the front passenger seat, smiling softly at him. "It'll be fine."

"Hrrmph."

Laurie laughs, stopping for a bicyclist to cross. "Come off it, you'd still be there if you thought we couldn't trust June."

"...True."

"Seriously, buddy. It'll be all right."

Walter just grumbles and subsides. He's not sure he can deal with abandoning Charlie and foreign food all in one night, but Daniel and Laurel want him here, and he will try. He watches her drive, thinking again about how he really ought to learn, now that he's not living in a compacted rookery like New York. "Sure there will be something I can eat?"

Laurel snorts, tossing her head, claw clip gleaming fake amber. "Oh, for the love of god. They'll at least have bread and butter."

Daniel chuckles. "And soft drinks. Man, we really need to teach you to be our Designated Driver."

"Will leave you both there all night if you become inebriated."

"Hah." Laurie finds their exit. "One of us might, but the other has to drive."

"Besides, we're trying to keep it classy."

Walter nods, studying the place as they cruise by, looking for a parking space. It's unassuming, just another awning, but warm light spills out through the glass doors, drawing them out of the evening chill.

Allie meets a lot of dickheads hosting for an exclusive little French place, but it's also good for people-watching. Today it's all been the same, of course. Shittons of couples, an appalling amount of today's dessert special, and bottles and bottles of champagne, only interesting by how much they actually seemed to care about one another. Or not. This is an interesting party, though. Tall brunette with a familiar (famous?) face, a mole like a biological shoutout to Marilyn Monroe and a shimmering red dress that's just the right kind of slinky, and two men, diametrically opposed. One's tall, dark and semetic, pudgy in a way that just makes him seem huggable, with big ol' dorky glasses failing to hide his pretty eyes. The other is honestly ugly, with a carrot top to draw even more attention to it. Doesn't even have pretty eyes to save it, and he's short, too.

The lady is out of either of their leagues, and as they approach, Allie wonders which one is the poor single friend. The little one's tense, but he doesn't seem jealous or miserable, just shy. Hell, he takes her hand like he needs it for courage as the other one does all the talking. It's his name on the reservation, and he's glowing like he's the one on a date, but the other man in his grey-green pinstripes looks both natural and possessive in that handhold. Fascinating as they are, it's really her business to get them their table, which is mercifully set and waiting.

Laurie squeezes Walter's hand and leads him to safety. When they're alone in their dim, quiet corner he relaxes a little. Dan has chosen well, in deference to the fame and infamy of his companions. Now he beams at them both by candlelight.

"Little more secure, buddy?"

"Yes. Thank you."

Laurie can see in Dan's eyes how much he wants to take Walter's gnarled little hands and kiss them, but he holds back. "Good."

The menu is impressive, and impressively varied, Walter peering at it closely. Laurie smiles. "Don't worry, no matter what you get, it won't turn you French."

"Sure?" Walter teases, and Dan grins, looking away as the sommelier comes up with the wine list. Watching Dan talk about wine, Laurie is reminded again that this is closer to his native turf than hers. Let alone Walter's. He doesn't look up during the consultation, not even when Dan mentions that their friend doesn't drink, and gets the non-alcoholic choices rattled off. After that, they're left alone to consider.

"So, what are you getting? They've got a white I think you'd like, but I can go either way and there's a really nice Pinot Noir..."

Laurie giggles. "You're so damned natural here, Dan."

"Well, y'know." He makes a vague, all-encompassing gesture, slightly and adorably embarrassed. Walter finally looks up, and smiles at him.

Dan had done his best to choose wisely, and is pleased to see his companions both relaxed and devouring their food, Walter with his one set of painfully good 'company manners' and a tall glass of milk. Laurie has taken it upon herself to be the one of them that gets sloshed, and he supposes it's fair, since she drove on the way. She's glowing and a bit giggly now, but quiet and controlled. Even Walter isn't fretting about it, carefully eating everything on his plate including the garnish.

It's only after dessert that Dan gets to the business of the evening. Walter is still scraping his little glass dish for the last of his chocolate mousse when he brings out the tiny box he's been keeping in his inside pocket. He's not sure how this will go over, and Walter looks pained as he sets it on the table. Laurie blinks, taking a minute to see the dark velvet in the dim light. "Oh."

"I know it was already arranged, but I still wanted to give you a ring." He opens the box. "Both of you." There's a small, flashing diamond for Laurie, and below it a slim gold band for Walter, who just stares. "The diamond's for Laurie, since I get to give her her band in a legal ceremony." Laurie holds out her left hand, and Dan slides it on. Walter just stares, and she takes his hand and gives it to Dan. "And no matter what the law says you're ours, Walter."


	28. Chapter 28

Charlie hasn't been left with anyone she doesn't really belong to since joining her current family, but Samantha is here, and June is a nice girl. Her hair is like Walter's, but really long and more gold. She has thick, round glasses and some shiny metal things on her teeth, and laughs when Charlie tells her she's pretty.

"But you have pretty hair!" She's learning to braid hair, and is practicing on June's while she does her homework.

"And you can get contacts," Samantha adds, because she knows more about how get other people to realize you're pretty.

"And eventually I'll get my braces off, it's true." June laughs and looks at the clock. "Nearly done, Charlie? Your folks will be here soon."

"Yeah." She ties the end, and is proud even if the result is a bit crooked. She only has a minute to admire it before sure enough, the doorbell is ringing like the phone had about fifteen minutes ago. The three of them come in to talk to June about how the evening has been so far and to give her her money. The Sinacores are staying out a little later, since both of them are good at being in public and they've known June longer. June tells them about putting Peter to bed and their snack and the reading they did together. She leaves it to Charlie to tell Walter about being a robot while Samantha was a princess and having extensive and very quiet adventures, since Peter would yell if they woke him up.

They're in the car before she notices the rings, plain gold on Walter and something shining like a star on Laurie. She claps in delight, and asks Dan all about them on the way home, as Laurie giggles in the front seat and Walter grumbles next to Charlie in the back. Apparently Laurie's is an engagement ring, which you wear to show that you're going to get married, and she gets one like Walter's when they actually do. There's a rule about boys not being allowed to marry boys, and about only two people getting married at a time, so an engagement ring would make no sense for Walter. But since he's part of this whatever the rules say, he gets his ring. Walter blushes, and Charlie beams.

He's not wearing it at breakfast the next day. Charlie doesn't notice until everyone gets really quiet. She looks up from her waffle to see Walter sitting there, carefully filling the little squares with syrup the way he always does. At first she doesn't even see anything different, then she notices it too. He looks up and blinks at the others.

"Uh, Walter?" And Dan's starting to look really sad, and she's not sure what she's going to do.

"Yes?"

"So what happened to--"

"Wearing it." He pulls a thin, gold chain out of his shirt, and sure enough, there's the ring around his neck. "Didn't want to be obvious." He blushes a little. "And chain is Laurel's. Seemed appropriate."


	29. Chapter 29

The wedding itself is in April, just like they said it would be. It's not at a church, and it's not very frilly, but it's a real wedding, and Charlie does get to be a flowergirl. The dress isn't one she can do anything in, but she loves it. It's soft yellow, with lots of white lace, and looks like sunshine. Laurie and Grandma have pretty dresses too. Red is one of Laurie's best colors, but there's an old rhyme about wedding dresses that says it's bad luck.

Charlie isn't sure Laurie's serious about believing it, but she's actually gone with white, and it makes her glow. Grandma is in pink, simply because she can wear it now that her hair is white and not red. Dan has an actual tuxedo. He had wanted one for Walter, but Walter had dug his heels in and is walking Laurie down the aisle in charcoal pinstripe. Uncle Hollis is plain grey, sitting with Grandma. Hardly anyone else is there. After all, Walter has no family, and all that Laurie and Dan have is here. The Sinacores have come, though, because Charlie wants Samantha here, and afterward she heaps admiration upon the dresses, and the ribbon in Charlie's hair, made from the same stuff as her dress.

Apparently most people have a huge party, but Charlie thinks that maybe just going back home for a snack and drinks and just getting a few little presents is better. It's less work, for sure. They don't have to wash all the dishes from a big white wedding cake, because they don't need enough for a hundred people and they don't need a whole table for the presents because there's only three. Grandma says that generally people give the couple things for their new house, but since this place is pretty well set up they don't need so much anyway.

The Sinacores are bubbling over with congratulations, and don't say anything about the gold band on the ostensible best man. They'll figure it out at home as best they can, busy right now with keeping the kids from eating their weight in cake as the happy couple (triple?) open their gifts. They weren't sure what to give, so in the end opted for a huge box of quality chocolates, since everybody loves candy and you can at least throw a perishable good away when it goes bad. Dan thanks him and wryly says he'll do his best to keep Walter from making himself sick.

"Will not get sick, Daniel," he growls. It's not very convincing, even from the guy who used to be Rorschach. The slight muffling effect of marshmallow filling makes a world of difference.


	30. Chapter 30

There's no school in summer, but there's a pool to go to and ice cream to eat and days and days of jungle and desert games with Samantha. Other children enter and leave their imaginary kingdom, but as it's universally agreed they make up the best games, it remains their sovereign realm at all times. All things bow to fit their whim, including passing bigger kids, who can serve as migrating buffalo or anything else the situation might require. She tries not to stay out too late because she knows Walter worries, but the days are long.

June rolls over into July, and there are fireworks on the Fourth. It's interesting, because while Dan and Laurie put up some decorations and things and go to the fireworks show, Walter is telling her very seriously about the Declaration of Independence and what it means and some other stuff. She can't follow it all, but his soft, raspy voice is comforting as they wait for it to start. It's louder than she'd like, but she can't be too afraid as she watches fire bloom in the heavens for what seems like an eternity, before staggering back to the car with dazzled eyes. At home Dan carefully supervises her with a sparkler of her own in the back yard. She waves the burning star tip around in the warm dark, and is glad to be an American.

It's late August when she finds the kitten. June is walking her home from Samantha's when there's a weird little peeping noise in the grass. June doesn't hear it, but she goes over to see what Charlie is looking at when she starts crawling around in the little ditch by the sidewalk. June's good like that.

"What is it, Charlie?"

"There's something down here... Found it!" It's a tiny little black and white kitten, mewing sadly in a bush. It's clearly tired of being there, and it struggles to go to her, its fur hopelessly tangled, its eyes enormous and very green. June crouches beside her, and clucks over the poor little thing, carefully freeing it with Charlie's help. She expects it to scratch and warns Charlie back, but it doesn't scratch. It's friendly, and makes its tiny little meow again, letting Charlie pick it up. It's so friendly June thinks it must belong to someone, but it's dirty and probably hungry, so Charlie takes it along with them.

When Laurie was little she wanted to be a vet when she grows up, and as far as Charlie's concerned she's about as good as the real thing when she finds a way to tenderly bathe the kitten and dry it off before it gets too cold. She checks between its legs and tells Charlie that it's a girl. Lucky for everyone, she's old enough to eat solid food, and nibbles some canned tuna, looking around with her huge eyes, mewing at everyone. Dan chuckles and pets her, and she rubs her head on his hand like they've been friends forever. She also puts up with it really well when Laurie checks her little ears and finds no pound tattoos, and even when Walter picks her up and inspects her as if she might be explosive.

They put out a Found Cat notice and everything, but nobody comes forward, and the kitten slowly but surely becomes part of the family, joyously greeting Laurie when she comes home from work, and sleeping on Walter during his afternoon naps. When they finally have to admit they're keeping her, it's time for a name. Walter makes noises about decadence (whatever that is) but doesn't actually stop her from naming the kitten Esmeralda, and always remembers to leave Charlie's door open a crack at night so she can come visit.

The next seven years are more of the same cosy strangeness. Charlie and Esmeralda grow together, the one into a sleek and handsome tuxedo cat with a loud and imperious voice, the other into into a skinny girl who wears multicolored feathers in her two black braids and still thinks makeup is something for grownups and can beat all the boys at soccer. She and Samantha stay friends. Samantha is still never Sam, and refreshes her lipstick in every available reflective surface.

Dan is the same as ever, maybe a bit squishier and with a little grey in his hair. Laurie teases him about having turned into an old suburban dad, and he has to just laugh and admit that he does build birdhouses. They're good birdhouses, and the Hendersons have one in their back yard, as well as a few other families up and down the street. Laurie has made friends through her classes, and has finally broken down and shown Charlie the old pictures on a rainy day in fifth grade. She's right, her costume was awfully skimpy, but she looked like a movie star in it.

Walter is still strange, of course. The older she gets the better she can see it. But she loves him and she will not be ashamed of him. He helps her practice the fearless and inventive maneuvers that make her so deadly on the field, and walks her to the bus stop every day, watching as it pulls away to the junior high. It's not very far away, but she knows he misses walking her right to the door. As it is he waits with them, which makes Sam mad because she wants to gossip, but there's the whole bus ride for that. Besides, the bus stop is a good spot for perverts, who they are beginning to worry about in earnest.

People have gotten a bit better, with Walter having been around for six years without doing anything murderous, but some people are still leery. Shaniqua's mom won't believe for one minute that he's okay, but Shaniqua's stop is earlier, so it works out. In deference to her mother's fears, she has only seen Walter through the bus window. Still, after a good two months of being being friends with Charlie and Samantha and a small wave from Walter himself, she's become bold enough to open her window and holler, "Hi, Mr. Kovacs!" Something in the way she says it always makes Charlie laugh, and Walter smiles a little, which from him is nearly the same thing. Today Shaniqua grins, and waves her skinny yellowish arm out the window at them, then pushes it up again when he friends board.

All of them sit in the back, because on this route all the stupid boys sit in the front. Shaniqua's hair is a brown puffball, tamed today into two pigtails that form their own puffs and make her look like Minnie Mouse. Charlie is suitably complimentary of this fantastic look, and they settle in so Samantha can complain about her mom won't let her buy a belly shirt. Charlie just shrugs, because she hasn't even bothered to ask. Laurie is big on androgyny and freedom and age-appropriate attire, Dan's with her on that bandwagon, and she has the feeling Walter's head might explode. Still, it really does bother Samantha. Charlie guesses she cares more because she's got more to show off. Charlie doesn't even need a training bra yet and is afraid she never will.

For the rest of Charlie's life she remembers snippets of that school day with a supernatural clarity. How blue the sky was, almost exactly how many blades of grass made up the lawn, the swish and bounce of Samantha's skirt and Shaniqua's hair. A few of that morning's math problems, the eyes of the snake in the science room. That afternoon never goes away either, eternal and blue and almost frozen, on that wave crest between security and nightmare. They've taken to walking to the library after school, and staying there until Laurie or Dan can come fetch them and wait for Shaniqua's big sister to show up and get her. On this fateful four o'clock they dance down the sidewalk full of the energy of the end of the day, the pavement covered in yellow leaves.


	31. Chapter 31

Frank is a patient man. Really, he is. It's been building up for weeks, but he sits quietly in the van, watching the entrance. A lot of kids come here when the school day ends. A lot of pretty ones. Women, really. Leggy and gorgeous and mocking, always mocking, tossing their heads and rolling their eyes. No fucking respect, and those slutty clothes they claim not to know the meaning of. Frank is on to them. He knows the real score, and that's why he's waiting, oh so patiently. He's waiting for the Right One as the others go by, too fat, too flat, or covered in acne.

Even with all his patience, he's about to give up. The whole crop seems to have come by for the day, and none of them are Right. As he's about to start the van and pull away, movement out of the corner of his eye stops him. It's three girls, and at first he doesn't know why he's bothering. The first one is a little high-yellow nigger with nappy hair. He's never liked niggers and kinda wants to hit this one with something, but she's not Right. There would be no savoring, no need to take his time over her. The one after her is even darker, though her curls bounce and behave. Still too dark, and flat as a board. The eyes and legs have that slutty energy, but it's not enough. He's reaching for the key again when he sees the last of the trio and knows in his bones that it's Right.

She's a little slower than the others, sauntering along behind like she's meant just for him. A woman disguised as a girl, with her short skirt and flashing blue eyes. Her skin is pale and perfect, her hair a cascade of gold down her back. Absolutely just for him. He watches them and sees proof of the divine favor he sometimes suspects when his target hesitates at the door, talking to her companions. She's forgotten something, looks like. She'll just run along and get it. Run along on those long legs, and he follows he in the van, nice and slow. Doesn't look like he's following, just like he's easing out of the parking lot and rolling west toward the school. The speed limit's low, and he can just idle along and catch up to her. The sun gives her a halo as he passes.

Samantha hasn't even noticed the van, concentrated on the magazine she meant to show her friends. It's full of quizzes, and she knows Charlie will get a kick out of this month's Most Embarrassing Moment. She's just about to cross one last street when the van swings across her path. She jumps back, startled, and when the driver gets out at first she thinks he's checking to make sure he hasn't hit her. So she doesn't run, and freezes for one crucial instant of shock as he snatches her up. She kicks and bites, but she doesn't have Charlie's training and soon there's duct tape over her mouth and she's in the back of the van, wrists and ankles bound together with more tape.

It's dark and she rattles around as they drive away. Not as much as she could, he's being very careful, driving exactly right to the police have no reason to stop him. She's pretty sure Charlie or Shaniqua wouldn't cry. That they'd sit back here fighting mad and planning, but the tears pour down her cheeks. She's not a fighter and never has been, and maybe Mom and Dad won't even be able to bury her and who's going to babysit stupid Peter when she's gone? He's nine, he's too young to have a murdered sister. She tries to wipe her eyes on the shoulders of her shirt, but doesn't have much success.

It takes about twenty minutes for Charlie and Shaniqua to worry, then another ten as they run back to school, expecting to overtake Samantha at any minute, talking to a boy or ogling cute shoes in a shop window. Maybe playing with a free-roaming cat or stealing a few roses off a fence for her hair. But she's nowhere along the way. She's not at the school either. Not by her locker, not in the nurse's office, not watching the Drama Club fuck around with improv games.

"Oh shit. Oh shit, Charlie." Shaniqua doesn't want to say it, but someone has to. "...Maybe she got snatched."

"Shut up! She didn't get snatched, she's..." Charlie sighs in miserable defeat, looking around.

"Fucking where, girl? Come on, we need to at least tell someone she's missing."

Everything goes terribly fast after that.


	32. Chapter 32

He hasn't been Rorschach for a long time, but a nose for disaster isn't something that goes away. It's long before time to go fetch Charlie, but when the phone rings, he knows. He knows something has gone horribly wrong and he's there beside Daniel in a moment. All the old lines are there, Nite Owl coming to the surface as Daniel listens.

"I see. ...Yes. Yeah, the one on 5th. 555-6895. She has her own transportation. ...We'll be right there." He hangs up and for a moment is neither Nite Owl nor Daniel, just some weak-faced, well-padded stranger from the suburbs. "Holy shit." He turns to Walter. "That was the police. Charlie and Shaniqua are at the station, but Samantha's missing."

"Missing?"

"...Possibly kidnapped. Look, we've got to go." He automatically grabs a light jacket he doesn't really need on this unseasonable day and heads for the door. Walter is frozen behind him.

"No."

"What do you mean? Come on!"

"No." His voice is low and guttural, Rorschach's growl.

"Walter..."

"No."

"...Oh Jesus, Walter. Please don't do this to me right now. I'm begging you."

Rorschach's heart is flint, but his long dormancy has weakened him. "Losing time, Nite Owl," he says even as Walter walks out the door after Daniel. Daniel just sighs and gets into the van.

"Just... just stay with me and keep a lid on that at the police station, okay buddy?"

"Okay." He doesn't say anything else, because there's nothing else to say.

Two blocks into the drive Dan switches on the radio in a desperate bid for distraction, but an upbeat dance mix hits their ears like blasphemy and he switches it off again. It seems like forever before they arrive, even though Daniel is speeding, but they finally screech to a halt in the station parking lot. They pass Laurie's car on their way in and find her inside on a bench, holding Charlie close. There's a woman who looks exactly like Shaniqua save for being infinitely darker who must be her mother doing the same for her. Dan has to guess, since Shaniqua's mother doesn't trust Rorschach not to pop back up as big as life and twice as crazy. She's also too smart to outright forbid a pre-teen girl from seeing her best friends, so Dan knows her a little by sight from various drop-offs and pick-ups, but cannot now remember her name.

"Hey, buddy." He sits beside his own child and wraps an arm around her to supplement Laurie's. Walter kneels on the floor in front of them, gazing up into Charlie's tear-streaked face. For a moment Dan thinks he's going to reassure her like a normal parent, then remembers who he's dealing with.

"What do you remember?"

"...The police already asked us all about that."

"I know."

Dan isn't sure if he or Laurie will kill Walter first, but Charlie answers calmly, staring into Walter's eyes as he takes her hands, walking her back through the afternoon. Even through his anger, he's impressed at her powers of observation and recall.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was added by a friendly anon on the kinkmeme, so it is included here despite not being mine. Hence the italics. Thanks again, whoever you are! <3

Walter went crazy for a little while; _that's what they told her when she was little. He was crazy, but he's better now._

_When they first became a family she understood, without anyone having to tell her, that Walter was different from her other parents; that in some ways he was as vulnerable as she was. Her took those pills each morning, and he knew things that only children know when they've been left alone in the dark. She had heard the name Rorschach, of course, but it was a long time before she made the connection between the famous vigilante and her quiet, steady, watchful Walter._

_She remembers the night in fifth grade when Laurie finally dragged out the dusty scrapbooks and showed her the old publicity photos and yellowing newspaper clippings. Right away, Charlie had been able to recognize Laurie and Dan in those costumes. She wondered how they ever kept it a secret from anyone. Walter's costume was different, though - it wasn't really a costume at all. If Nite Owl and Silk Spectre were costumes with ordinary people inside, Rorschach was ordinary clothes with Rorschach inside._

_She's pretty sure that it's Rorschach kneeling at her feet right now, looking at her out of Walter's face. His eyes are flat and hard and they don't blink, and it would scare her a little to see him like this if Dan and Laurie weren't warm on either side of her; if she wasn't already so scared._

_But his voice, when he speaks, sounds the way Walter's sounds sometimes when the dogs bark at them. He asks her what she remembers, and she tells him everything she saw, just as if she were five again and he was walking her home from school. He doesn't blink and his face doesn't change and he doesn't take her hand or hug her or tell her that it will be all right. Somehow, that makes her feel a little bit calmer, and the tightness in her throat eases. Walter has never told her things would be all right when they might not be, and Rorschach won't either._


	34. Chapter 34

The entire police department is looking for Samantha, and descriptions have been given out to other precincts and the community at large, so there's nothing to do but go home. No one says anything on the drive, the van left behind because they don't want to be separated. Walter is very, very quiet, and Charlie leans on him in the back seat. No one else says anything either, and she's so tired but feels like she'll never sleep again. When they get home, Shaniqua calls, and Charlie curls up to fret with her friend, both of them tucked up safe at home while Samantha is probably getting molested or killed, crying and laughing by turns, whatever helps with the horror at the moment.

Dan doesn't know what to do. He feels like throwing up, and Laurie sighs, slumping into a kitchen chair. "Shit."

"Yeah." Dan sighs, rubbing at his eyes. "God."

Walter mechanically opens a can of tuna and stuffs it into his mouth without the benefit of a fork, hurming. "Van is best lead. Will need map of city."

"Goddammit, Ror--" Dan clenches his fists. Stops. Silently counts to ten. "The police are on it."

"Were on the Roche case, too."

"Oh, Walter." Laurie's voice cracks.

"Need to do something, Daniel." His voice is a deep rasp they haven't heard in a long, long time.

"Shit. Okay." He groans. "I can't just sit here, either. Goddammit!" He runs a hand through his hair, and starts a pot of coffee. "I'll get your maps."

"And what about me?"

"Can't drive," Walter points out, pulling on black knit gloves. Laurie laughs, and gets a jacket of her own. They don't say goodbye to Charlie, there's no sense getting her hopes up or agitating her any further. Dan kisses them both and watches as they drive off.

It takes a bit to get to the library, and Laurie feels weird, because she's in this car with Rorschach, not Walter, and she knows it. When she parks he gets out without a word. She locks the car and follows him. Even his walk is different, and she shudders. Silk Spectre was never much of a detective, so she mostly watches him. He crawls through the bushes, and actually sniffs the sidewalk sometimes, like a bloodhound. He works his way from the library to the school, combing through vacant lots and making harsh, guttural sounds.

"Find anything?" Laurie finally has to ask, unable to bear the quiet any longer.

"Nothing." The tone is flat, mechanical. She shivers again, overwhelmed with quiet, creeping horror.

"Do you even know what you're looking for?"

"Point of abduction," he growls. "Police still combing DMV records, following up whole parking lot."

"Seems a bit laborious, yeah."

"Van perfect for kidnapping. Left when girl did."

They're getting closer and closer to the school, and it's making her skin crawl. That a child could be stolen so close to safety isn't new information, but it turns her heart to water all the same. "Horrible," she mutters.

"...Yes."

They can see the school when Rorschach stops, drops to the curb and growls deep in his chest. "What? What have you found?"

He holds up a delicate silver charm in the shape of an elaborate, stylized S, almost too small to see from standing height. Laurie crouches and peers at it, then gasps in horror. She helped Charlie pick it out, after all. It had been last year's birthday present to Samantha. "Must have lost it during struggle."

For a moment Laurie thinks she's going to throw up. "Now what?"

"Need map. Need to find places scum can hide."


	35. Chapter 35

Adolescent girls can spend a long time on the phone, but eventually Charlie and Shaniqua can comfort each other no more, and hang up to go cling to a parent. She's shocked at how much the same the universe still is with her best friend in the hands of god knows who, how the sound of her feet on the stairs is no different. The house feels terribly empty as she reaches the ground floor, though, and she shivers, looking around for them.

"Charlie?" And it's odd for Dan to be in his office right now, but she runs in to find him drinking black coffee, hunched over his computer. Everyone else's parents are hopelessly inept, but not Dan. She goes over and hugs him tightly, letting him scoop her into his lap even though she's too big and too old. On the screen are maps of the city, confusing not-grids that all look the same.

"Where are Walter and Laurie?"

Dan sighs, unsure how to answer that, and strokes Charlie's hair. "They're... seeing what they can do."

"They're heroing, aren't they?"

"I guess." He sighs again, and starts printing out the maps.

"And you're helping."

"Well, if they're gonna do it, I'm gonna help."

"I love you, Dan."

"We love you too, kiddo."

There's a screech of brakes outside, and they're back to collect their maps. Walter isn't wearing a mask, but he's Rorschach now, remote and terrible, but still comforting. Even now she knows that all that power and menace loves her. He doesn't say a word, and looking up at him she knows that if he can't find Samantha, he'll never be okay again. That's all right. She won't, either.

"How you holding up, honey?" Laurie asks, stroking Charlie's hair.

"Okay. Anything I can do to help?"

Laurie sighs. "Probably not, and I remember how much it sucks to hear that."

"You can help me research," Dan says softly, and Charlie supposes she'll have to take what she can get. Poor Shaniqua doesn't even have ex-vigilante parents. She hugs them farewell and watches the car out of sight before pouring herself a cup of of coffee with plenty of milk, sugar, and chocolate syrup to make it palatable. Dan has a lot to teach her about research and criminology, and she helps him comb through articles and records and other things from databases he's not even supposed to be able to get into.

"It's so funny seeing a hacker your age."

"You can teach an old dog new tricks, you know." He smiles a little, and kisses her cheek.

"I know she might already be dead," she says, voice cracking, "but I'm glad she has you guys."

Dan pauses in their work to hug her tightly. "That's right, honey. She does have us."

Laurie feels a deep upwelling of sympathy for Nite Owl II, winding down dark, narrow streets, many of them one-way, with Rorschach in the shotgun seat growling about wasted time and striking off locations and circling likely ones, covering the printouts in bizarre hieroglyphics.

"Not this way!"

"It's a one-way street! Now shut up and let me drive." She makes a couple of artful turns, and heads toward the burned out warehouse they're trying next. "You think we can deal with crackheads at our age? Because if he's not here, there's probably crackheads."

"Dealt with KT heads. Not so old."

She chuckles. "Maybe so. Still..." She reaches down, pulling up her big Maglite, "I'm glad I carry this."

"Bludgeons very underrated, though imprecise."

"Ain't that me all over?" She grins, looking very like her father.

He smiles like a switchblade flicking out. "Yes."

She rolls near a loading door, and practically swallows her tongue at the sight of a van just like the one Charlie described parked in those sooty shadows. It's a cool evening and the windows are perfectly clear, so they know it's unoccupied, but Rorschach keeps watch as Laurie comes up to idle beside it, then she unbuckles and they switch roles, Rorschach unlocking the van and combing the inside for clues. It's creepy, this echoing, filthy darkness, and Laurie hefts her flashlight's reassuring weight.

"Anything?" She mutters, staring into the skeletal ceiling, looking for anyone who might be taking advantage of humanity's general failure to look up.

"Nothing." More rustling, then dead silence.

"Buddy?" She growls, sounding a lot like Dan.

"Something." He comes crawling back out, his face set, every line of his body showing outrage and disgust. "Call this in, I need to track him down."

"What did you find?" She pulls him into the the car and they go find the nearest payphone.

"...Photographs. Hrrnk--Garments."

"Oh god." The world spins and she thinks she's going to throw up, but her voice is steady when the dispatcher answers with the information Rorschach feeds her. The exact street address, the plate number, make, and year of the van. The little denim skirt and powder blue cartoon t-shirt in a crumpled pile in the back. The Polaroid of a little blonde girl on the shotgun seat. When the call is over, Laurie staggers out of the boot and vomits on the sidewalk like a drunk. Rorschach holds her hair out of the hands her a bandana.

"Walk it off. No time to waste."

She wants to punch him, but just nods, trying to take a deep breath and not imagine horrible things happening to poor little Samantha. Back to the warehouse, Rorschach picking up the trail before the police arrive. Seems like he took her from the van, out through the back of the warehouse, and then down this alley. Another turn and another, each one darker and narrower, the pavement coated with slime. Finally, in the heart of the Minotaur's labyrinth, they find a door. It's rusty and dented, FUCK spray-painted across it in lurid red. Over it is a flickering light, and it makes the man beside Laurie look both less and more than human.


	36. Chapter 36

The drive seems to go on forever, Samantha rolling back and forth, picking up a few bruises on the van walls and trying to stop crying. It's dirty and dark back here and she hates the rolling, but she dreads their arrival. In all those ominous personal safety workshops no one ever wants to go into the details of just what bad men do to little girls, but it's easy to read between the lines. Rape and murder seem the most likely, to say nothing of any sadistic little extras.

She's curled up on her side when the van stops, panting in terror, her skull a fraction of an inch from the wheel well. The last thing she needs right now is a head injury. Hearing the driver getting out and coming around, she scrambles to sit up. He looks as frighteningly normal as he did before, and she swallows hard, staring at him. It's hard not to cry even more, because it's just not fair. She's only kissed one boy in her life, and she was looking forward to high school and college and everything.

"You're only sorry you got caught." She blinks when he says this because dammit, she was minding her own business. He sneers at her. "So innocent. All big blue eyes and 'who, me?' I know all about you little sluts. Pretend you're just cockteasers, wiggling around in your short skirts, but I know what you do at night. When no one can see you."

She's a virgin and wants to protest as much, but with the tape on her mouth she can only glare, some of her fear turning to anger. He snickers, like a goddamn stupid boy looking for bra straps to snap, and then he's crawling into the back with her, huge and with his acrid smell. She kicks and struggles wildly when he reaches for the fly of her skirt, but he's too strong to do much about and she's too clumsy, extremities all pins and needles despite her best efforts to keep them awake on the drive. He yanks the skirt off, but leaves the panties where they are, hauling her shirt off and cutting it to make it go over the tape. For an insane moment Samantha takes time to be glad she didn't wear her favorite shirt today, which she had been contemplating before school.

Then of course she comes back to where she is, shivering in the green and blue plaid underwear set Grandma sent her for her birthday. He sneers at her, and closes the doors again, going to get something from the driver's seat. She tries them, but they're locked until he opens them again, carrying a Polaroid camera. He smirks and props her against the wall of the van, taking a picture. She stares at the white square, waiting for it to develop and not wanting to see herself the way he sees her.

Turns out she doesn't get a chance to, because he snatches it up, shaking it like a kid, eager to see. "It's more real this way. When you take a picture, it's real. Like you're really a little slut who's about to get what she deserves."

It's jarring, see-sawing between fear and rage like this. She's never been a violent person, but she wants to change all that now, working against the tape. He's taken her away from everything and everyone to punish her for a crime she doesn't even know how to commit yet. He just laughs at her, and closes the doors again. He comes back this time with a canvas sack, and it's so cartoony she almost laughs. It's dark and hot inside, though. She can barely breathe, certainly not enough to struggle as he carries her off, bumping against his broad back. Samantha wants her mother the way she hasn't since kindergarten or so.

After another eternity she hears a door squeal open on rusty hinges. It closes behind them so loud. It's the loudest thing she's ever heard, and it keeps being loud when it's not there anymore, echoing in her mind. She thumps down onto a soft surface, and wonders if they'll ever find the body.


	37. Chapter 37

"Here," Rorschach growls, and drops to his knees in the slime to force the lock. Laurie feels time slowing down like it used to in the bad old days and grips the Maglite tighter. A moment later Rorschach is up. He had kicked Dan's door open in '85, and despite all the years and mileage since then, he still does it beautifully. It bangs open like the crack of doom, and they swarm into the low light. It's a camp lantern hung on a rusty hook over a stained mattress on the floor, and it illuminates everything they need to see. The hulking silhouette over the small one, the drunk pawing at her panties, yanking them down as he croons sick filth about what he's going to do to her.

The next minute or so is very confused. Rorschach lets out a sound that can't have come from a human larynx and fucking _charges_. Laurie is right behind him and Frank doesn't stand a chance. He tries to grab Samantha so he can threaten her life to make them back off, but Laurie already has the kid under each arm, hauling her away like the mattress is made of venomous snakes, lips curled back from her white teeth in a snarl. She knows she'll have to stop her partner before he kills this son of a bitch, but she doesn't really want to.

So she lets the wet thuds and screaming go on for a bit as she pulls Sam's panties back up, wrapping the girl in her coat and peeling the tape off her mouth.

"Okay, honey?"

"Y-yeah."

Laurie hugs her tightly as she begins to cry, and frees her wrists and ankles before reluctantly letting go to pull Rorschach off of Frank. "Hey," she tells the snapping, snarling, feral thing in her arms, "We don't get to kill anybody. No matter how much they deserve it."

He keeps struggling, and then hears Samantha crying, which seems to suck the Rorschach right out of him. "Please, Mr. Kovacs. Charlie will hate me if you go to jail over me!"

"No she won't. But she would be miserable, Walter."

He goes limp in her arms and lets her haul him away. Frank doesn't worry her. He's not going anywhere, only labored breathing letting them know he's still alive. Samantha grabs their hands tight enough to bruise, and Walter manages to pull himself together and lead her out with Laurie. There are uniforms surging down the alleyway, and Walter draws closer to Laurie. She can feel his fear, and in the glow of flashlights she she can see the blood all over his hands and jacket. He does his best not to hyperventilate as they pile into a patrol car. Neither of them is willing to leave Samantha's side during her checkup and first aid for her cuts and bruises, so they give their initial statements there, a nurse bathing and bandaging Walter's battered hands.

It seems to take eons. They go over and over what they did, not much of it actually illegal. Frank was squatting on a derelict premises, so going in isn't a B&E and Dan didn't have to do any hacking to get the maps. The charm is more problematic, but apparently Dan called it in and has saved their asses from withholding evidence. As to assault and battery, well... Samantha is alive and intact. Franklin Roark is also alive, and will probably be declared competent to stand trial.

Of course they have to go to the station to answer even more questions, but they stay where they are until the Sinacores come bursting in. They've both been crying; and even Peter, lately fighting all his natural playing with Barbies urges in a quest to be tough, just throws himself into the group hug and howls. Walter stands and watches them a long moment, and there's actually some peace in his eyes until they reach the station. Then he gets scared again, and pretty soon Laurie can tell that it's taking him a Herculean effort not to start crying. It gets pretty bad, especially when they get separated, but he keeps it together. He's dead white and shaking by the time they can leave, but Dan is there, and he loads them into the van where Charlie hugs him tight enough to bruise.

He doesn't want to let her go, and even though Charlie has been to big to carry for years, when they get home Walter scoops her up and carries her to bed. She's already half-asleep, crashing from adrenaline. He remembers it well. Is feeling it now, and yawns as he tucks her into bed, pulling off her shoes and socks.

Charlie opens her eyes. "Is Samantha okay?" There's fear in them, but for her friend, not of Rorschach. It's suddenly all he can do not to cry, stroking her hair back from her forehead.

"Yes. Only had some bruises. A cut or two. Had to listen to him talk about molesting her, but we stopped him before he could do any of it."

"Good." She squeezes his hand, and he stays by the bed until she's asleep again. He can hear Daniel and Laurel moving around, and knows that Daniel will take care of her. Watching as Charlie's breath slows, he has a sudden, nearly irresistible impulse to just slip out the window and be gone. He was Rorschach tonight, and Rorschach does not belong here. He pictures himself doing it, pictures himself never coming back, and chokes, a claw of sorrow gripping his heart. He looks down at Charlie again, and kisses her forehead too lightly to wake her. He tucks the blankets more securely around her and goes to the window, closing the curtains. He stands there for a moment, almost flinging them wide and going through anyway, but manages to let go and make his silent way into the hall. He can hear Laurel and Daniel's voices, and nearly runs to join them, suddenly in desperate need of their warmth.

Dan looks up just as Walter finally comes to join them. He and Laurie are nested in their bed, wrapped up against the horrors of the world. "There you are," he says softly, trying not to let on how worried he's been. It would be just like Walter to skip town with his all-or-nothing thinking, desperate to leave Charlie untouched by Rorschach's blood-stained hands.

"Here I am," he croaks, and toes out of his shoes, crawling in between them. Laurie wraps her arms around him, rubbing his back.

"We were just about to look for you, baby."

"Only call me that in dire times. Why?"

"I guess it's 'cause I don't think you'll tolerate it otherwise," she says, stroking his hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Dan's arms are long enough to hug them both, and he has never been more glad of it. He holds them close, and isn't surprised to finally hear a choked sob from Walter. Poor guy has never been able to cry with any grace, and now is no different. It seems to tear out of his throat in a jagged chain, and Dan can see in Laurie's eyes that she shares the feeling, like they have to extract it before it can kill him.

It takes all night, holding and loving their poor broken Walter, (and Rorschach, never dead and not even truly gone) rubbing his back and covering his face in kisses, letting him know that it's all right, and that they'll never let him go. That they'll keep him out of jail in Charlie's life no matter what happens, that he is too precious to give up for anything. Dawn's light is coming in through the windows before he hiccups to a stop and finally sleeps, his head pillowed on Laurie's breasts, Dan wrapped protectively around his back.


	38. Chapter 38

Charlie realizes that she'll have to be careful with Walter. He scared himself really bad and there's another court date coming up. When she was a little kid court didn't scare her, but now it does. She worries that Walter will be taken away, that they'll say he's too crazy to be part of a family. Under that is something even worse, the fear that they won't be able to convict the guy that nearly killed her best friend. If he gets away with it, she's scared of what she will do to keep Samantha and every other little girl in the world safe from him.

Everyone says it's hard to kill someone, but Walter has and she thinks she could too. She wants to ask him about it, but it seems cruel. Especially now, when he sleeps so much and throws up just about every other day because they've given him more pills. They do seem to calm him down, but seeing the worry on Dan's face as he carries paper towels and ginger ale down the hall, she has to wonder if it's worth it. Laurie seems to feel the same, and Charlie hates to hear her fight with Dan about it. It's not that they never fight, but they have to have these ones all hushed in the kitchen, because they're worried about Walter too.

At least this afternoon Dan and Laurie are on basically a date, so all is peaceful as she wanders into the sunlit kitchen to see Walter awake at last, staring into a bowl of cereal like it holds the secrets of the universe.

"Hey."

He looks up, and she hates the dullness in his eyes. "Hey." He smiles faintly, and she hugs him, gripping more tightly than she means to.

"How long do you have to take this stuff?"

"Don't know." There's a lump in her throat because it could be forever. "Won't be forever," Walter says, like he can hear her thinking. He pats her arm. "Won't be forever. Could be worse."

"I can't believe they came up with a medicine that makes people puke," she mutters, getting cereal of her own.

"I'd rather puke than drool."

"Drooling, too? Man, that's just stupid."

"Put me on stuff that made me drool. After..." He twitches, and Charlie is as scared for him as she has ever been.

"After Grice?" Her voice is barely audible. She has heard the name before, but only when she was supposed to be asleep.

"Yes. Didn't want you to know, but children always do."

"...We're sneaky, I guess."

"Doesn't matter. Wish you didn't know, but you do."

"I... I wanted to ask you something, but it might be bad for you to answer."

"Want to know what it was like?"

"Not... Not like my own private horror movie, just... Was it hard? Because if Roark gets off..." Her lip wobbles and her eyes sting. It's a blessed rush of normalcy when Walter gets up and hugs her tightly.

"It was easy. Terribly easy, and it didn't help a thing." Charlie nods, listening as he goes on, "Would have been different if I had arrived in time." His voice is hoarse, painful. "They say it was failing that drove me crazy and that's why I did it, but I would have anyway. You're too young for that decision."

"Might have to make it anyway," she says, leaning on him.

He smiles, sudden and strange and warming. "Probably won't. The courts are good for something, sometimes."


	39. Chapter 39

Diane Hunter is one of the best, and she owes the old firm a favor anyway. Alan and Davis helped her get her start, and when one of their oldest and best clients needs someone for criminal law rather than property, she's on the case. To be fair, Dreiberg isn't her only client in this mess, though she needs to exonerate his crazy friend/domestic partner/none of her business in the court of public opinion if nowhere else. The other part is putting Franklin Roark behind bars for as long as possible on behalf of the Sinacores. It's touching, really; Dreiberg using his connections to help out some family friends after a bad experience.

They seem like nice people, and their daughter's a tough little thing, willing to testify despite the nightmares she's still having. She hopes it won't come to that, but it probably will, and she warns them as such. Mr. Sinacore just nods, with that grim look she's seen so many times. She's glad Mrs. Sinacore shares it, that she's a mama bear instead of a mater dolorosa. The latter can go over better in court, but it's harder to deal with outside of it.

She's not positive what to do about Kovacs. Everyone was already scared of him, and she knows the severity of Roark's injuries is going to come up. Hell, he's more scared than the kid, and sits there between Dreiberg and Juspeczyk holding their hands in a vise-grip despite how doped up he still is. She wishes she could have him sober for the trial, but Dreiberg's barely-suppressed wrath is terrible, and she supposes she doesn't blame him.

For Walter the whole trial is a blur, punctuated by sharp images and memories that will stay with him forever. Ms. Hunter frightens him anyway, young and beautiful with sharp teeth and eyes that cut. She's like Laurel, but with nothing soft about her, nothing to balance that ferocity. In the courtroom she stands there in her grey skirt suit while the slimy animal working to defend the monster chides him about excessive brutality and vigilantism being illegal. She was warned him to be utterly truthful, so he has to admit how badly he mangled Roark, and listen to this creature try and tell the jury that he did it for his own gratification.

Then Ms. Hunter is talking to him, asking all the questions she told him she would. About how it looked, how he felt. He gags when describing Samantha's struggles against her attacker, and that fetid room, and is shaking by the end of it. "Had to... had to stop him. C-couldn't. I couldn't do anything else." He covers his eyes for a moment, and the court is utterly silent. After a moment, Ms. Hunter asks the jury if they have children, if they could have possibly done anything different, faced with that horrible reality. What they would have done, searching for a little girl and finding her there.

He's glad to escape, and would walk out altogether if Samantha wasn't on the stand next. As it is he sits by Daniel and grips his own hands because to take Daniel's would be a public admission that the press would have a field day with. He takes deep breaths, and watches. Samantha looks very small as she takes her oath, but her spine is straight and her head high. The creature gets nowhere with her. He can see it in the jury's eyes as she tells them what really happened. About being snatched off the street, tied up, photographed, menaced, and pawed. About her terror for her own life and her fear for her family and their inability to recover from her loss. Asked about Rorschach, she meets the creature's eyes squarely, and only says, "He saved me."

There's more after this, but once Samantha is safely down from the stand, Walter can't take anymore and quietly leaves. He hates vomiting anyway, and it's always worse in a public bathroom. Sitting there on the floor of the stall, he offers up a silent prayer that whatever happens to him, Roark be forced to pay for his crimes.

All of this takes days, of course. Long, trying days marked with nausea and disorientation. Walter spends as little time in court as he can, but he's there for the victim impact statement on the last day. Mr. Sinacore gives it, his family tightly huddled on a bench in the crowd. He's a man unused to public speaking, but like Daniel, is fully capable of it once he begins.

"I speak for my family today. All of us have been victimized by Franklin Roark. My daughter dreams of what he did and tried to do to her more nights than not. She no longer wants to be the pretty little girl she is, afraid of what it might bring out in creatures like Mr. Roark. I hesitate to call him a man in light of what he has done, because a man does not think of female children as prey." He swallows, flips a page of his notes. "My wife and son walk in fear and anger. None of us truly feel secure anymore, and probably never will again." He goes on to say more about nightmares and his daughter's nerves, the changes all of them have undergone, voice cracking at the end as he thanks Walter for bringing his girl home safe.

After that, they wait the jury out. It seems to take longer than it does, and Charlie clings to Walter's hand. They've kept her out of this as much as they could, but there's no way she could stay away when everything is being decided. There's already a butcher knife under her mattress in case Roark gets away. She looks over at Samantha, whose mother is hugging her so hard she can barely breathe, and at Peter, clutching at both parents' sleeves, his face pinched and scared like it's been ever since.

It's all she can do not to leap up and cheer when they come back with life without parole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of what I managed on the kinkmeme, and the story is technically unfinished. To whoever reads this far: what would you like to see mentioned/tied up/addressed in an epilogue chapter?


End file.
